


Pocket Rocket

by cranesandcranesandcranes



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 71,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranesandcranesandcranes/pseuds/cranesandcranesandcranes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having previously barely spoken a word to one another, after a chance encounter AJ Lee and Wade Barrett find themselves on a collision course, much as Wade tries to tell himself otherwise. All the ingredients for this most unlikely of romances are in place, but the pair must brave the disdain of much of the locker room and figures from their past determined to keep them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rescue

"Welp. This is me..."

At last. AJ had reached her door and this irrepressibly determined young man would leave her alone. She was going to let him down gently and get a good night's sleep. She'd never wanted to go out in the first place, but Kaitlyn was one hell of an arm-twister. Predictably, it had gone like every other night on the town with the girls, them drinking themselves into a stupor while she allowed herself no more than a single vodka and coke before doing away with the former and returning to soft drinks. Later, she was being excitedly pulled at by Kaitlyn and company to the dancefloor to reluctantly throw a few shapes to a song she barely recognised let alone liked.

It was nice to see them enjoying themselves so much, and she'd rather be in a club with them than most other places with most other people, but no matter how hard she tried to humour her friends, it had never been her thing. And this night had an added complication. An eager, wide-eyed 21-year-old laden with inebriated bravado had latched on to her, excitedly babbling away to her about anything and everything throughout the night. He'd lost his friends, so he said, and didn't have enough money for the ride home. He was rather sweet, and with her companions lost in revelry somewhere on the dancefloor it had actually been quite a relief to have some company while she performed her usual duty of standing guard over the handbags. They even had fairly similar interests, although the way he returned from each trip to the bar or the toilets with a new raft of information on any given topic led her to believe he was engaging in some feverish Googling to maintain her favour.

But nothing was going to happen, of that she was sure. It wouldn't with anyone on the first night of their meeting, a chaste kiss as a reward for misguided effort was the most she was going to concede. After all of the boorish Neanderthals she came across on her travels, this kind of adolescent lusting was a nice change. A girl younger and less experienced than herself could do worse than a guy like that and she wished him well. Being able to look upon a man with almost mothering pity felt good, it reminded her how she'd grown up in her four years with WWE, how sure of herself she had become. She was a woman at last.

"Goodnight, Jason, it was nice meeting you," she smiled warmly. It was an odd feeling to be simultaneously fond of the young man and glad she  
wouldn't likely be seeing him ever again.

She balanced on her tiptoes to give him a light peck, then turned around on the balls of her feet and went to insert her keycard in the door. She felt him firmly clasp her right wrist. With her back to him, she rolled her eyes, seemed like he wasn't taking the hint after all. She didn't want to have to do it to him but she was prepared to be blunt.

"Goodnight? That's it? We've been talking all evening, weren't you having a good time?" he looked at her; offended, desperate and drunk. She'd forgotten that last part, of course he was going to be more impulsive, of course it was going to take more to discourage him. She tried to be understanding with him.

"I had a very nice time, but I'm not looking for anything more. That's not how I have fun. Don't be offended, you're a lovely guy, it's nothing to do with you. I'd say this to anyone I'd just met."

He frowned, rustled his messy blond hair and for a moment, it looked like he was turning to leave. Hurt and not really appreciating what she was saying, but to be frank that wasn't really her problem. But then he turned back on her, his nostrils flared and his eyes were doing their best job of glaring furiously at her, but he still looked more like a scorned child than a spurned man.

"So is this what you do, then? Is this how you get your kicks? Lead a guy to your door and then blow him off?"

"You offered to walk me back to my room, I thought it was sweet and I didn't want to offend you. At no point did I suggest anything else might be on offer."

"You might not have said it baby, but it's been in your eyes all night, the way you were looking at me, playing with your hair and licking your lips, walking in front of me wiggling your ass on the way up here,"

He'd crossed a line now, he wasn't being a sweet, naive kid anymore and it was AJ's turn to flare up.

"I did nothing of the sort! Jason, read my lips: I am not. Interested. In you. Now goodnight!" she went to put the card in the door again, her growing anger and frustration causing her to shake a little and struggle to guide it into the slot. She felt his hands again, firmer and grabbing both wrists this time. Professional athlete though she may have been, he was taller and heavier and she struggled to resist as he spun her around and pinned her back against the door.

"I know you want it. I've seen you on TV, there's no faking how you act. You're a horny little slut, aren't you? You don't care where you get it. It's nothing to be ashamed of, stop trying to deny it. Let me show you..."

"Just what the  _hell_  do you think you're doing?" a voice boomed from along the corridor, Jason instinctively dropped his arms to his sides and freed AJ from her predicament against the door. They both turned to look at the source of the intrusion, although AJ had recognised the voice from the first syllable. The unmistakeable dulcet tones of Wade Barrett.

Of all the people she'd want to come to her aid at a time like this, the towering Englishman was pretty low on the list. They'd barely spoke, even in their days back in developmental. AJ didn't like to base her opinions of a person on hearsay and observing from afar, but very little of what she'd seen and heard from Wade Barrett was good. The kind of bitter, cranky cynic that made CM Punk look like Barney the Dinosaur, a sense of humour that seemed to fixate almost exclusively on the misfortunes of others, and to top it all off, his recent, messy break-up with Alicia Fox that had made him Diva Enemy Number One. The womens' locker room was all but unanimous in their belief that this was one self-interested, black-hearted, thoroughly untrustworthy man. And here he was rescuing her.

"What did you just call her?" Wade was advancing on Jason who lay frozen to the spot, the proverbial deer in headlights. The slight slur in Wade's voice and stumble in his walk suggested he wasn't exactly sober himself, but he wasn't as far gone as Jason, and besides, he was 6 foot 7 and 250 pounds.

Even after what he'd just done, AJ hoped for Jason's sake he had the sense to turn tail. He'd learn in time that wasn't the way to treat a girl, maybe it would only take the sober light of day tomorrow for him to be appalled with himself and realise he'd way overstepped the mark. He didn't need a black eye on top of the guilt.

"I... we were just..." Jason's position was indefensible and he knew it, Wade was the headmaster and he was the schoolboy caught cigarette in hand in the toilets.

Wade grabbed him by the chin, causing Jason to emit an effeminate squeak that caused AJ to stifle a giggle. As long as it didn't get any worse than this for the boy, it was a pretty amusing and satisfying situation.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, sunshine, but I believe I just overheard you refer to my colleague here as a 'horny little slut'. Did I hear right?"

Wade's forefinger and thumb were pushing Jason's cheeks together and there was no way he could give an intelligible reply, just high-pitched whimpers of protestation.

"You know, son, when I was your age, I'd have kicked your fucking teeth in for dishonouring and disrespecting a good woman like that. But I'm mellowing in my advancing years, so I'll give you thirty seconds to climb in that lift, get out of this hotel and back to whatever wretched part of this godforsaken city you crawled out from or I'm going to stage a re-enactment of how this got broken" he threatened, releasing one hand from Jason's face to point to his busted nose.

"FYI, when he says 'lift', he means 'elevator'. And I'd do what he says, Jacey. When people talk about the famous British sense of humour, they're not thinking of him. This bloke doesn't bloody joke around, mate" AJ didn't know where it came from, but all of a sudden she found herself chiming in, putting on her best English accent for the final sentence. In the space of couple of minutes this had gone from an unpleasant and fairly frightening situation to something rather fun.

"OK... I... s-sorry, Mr Barrett," Jason was becoming more of a scolded schoolboy by the minute.

"I don't think I'm the one you need to apologise to, do you?" questioned Wade as Jason staggered towards the elevator.

"Sorry... AJ... ma'am... have a good night," the elevator arrived and the last she saw of Jason was him doubling over with relief as the doors began to close.

"Ma'am," she chuckled to herself under her breath.

"Ugh, the youth of America," Wade sighed, shaking his head with his hands on his hips, still looking at the spot where Jason had stood seconds ago. He turned around to look at AJ reclining on her door and gave her a wry smile.

"Not that British youths are any better, of course. Anyway, are you alright, love? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

AJ had to say, she was very impressed and put at ease by the way Wade had handled this. Light-hearted and casual without being dismissive or mocking, caring and concerned without being over-dramatic. She winced thinking of the state that the likes of John Cena, bless him, would have worked himself up into by now had he found her in that situation.

"I'm fine," she said, shifting her weight off the door and back to her feet.

"Not sure the same goes for Jason, though. I think he might need new pants after your little white knight act."

Wade smiled again. It was a good smile, AJ thought, just the right side of smug.

"Well, on the plus side, he's got a heck of a story to tell now, hasn't he? The night he nearly pulled AJ Lee and almost fell victim to the Barrett Barrage. That's sure to impress the 'bros' back at the 'frat house'."

He delivered the Americanisms complete with air quotes and a truly horrendous approximation of an American accent.

AJ burst into fits of giggles. Wade watched her, almost fascinated at how he could possibly have amused her so.

"I swear to God," she began, finally conquering he laughter to the point where she could squeak out words, "if you released a film of yourself reading out a list of Americanisms in that accent and that deadpan tone, you'd have the cult comedy hit of the year on your hands. Say 'dude' next!"

"Look, I'm happy to tell a lecherous arsehole to bugger off for you, but I will not be your performing monkey," he spat back playfully. She didn't know Wade Barrett could be playful.

"Alright, alright," she said, her laughter now fully subsiding and a ponderous look spreading across he face as she curled a strand of her wavy dark brown hair around her right index finger.

"You know, before I was on TV, most guys either treated me with respect or indifference. Usually the latter, I must admit. It seems I can't go anywhere now where someone doesn't do or say something inappropriate to me."

"Oh, the pains of being beautiful and successful," Wade said in a mock-hysterical tone, even theatrically bringing the back of his right hand to his brow.

"You know what I mean," AJ groaned, poking him sharply in the ribs, then instantly worrying she was being a little over-familiar. This was probably already the longest conversation they'd ever had.

"I do, and that is why I would like to restore your faith in the hairier sex by joining me for a wholesome, friendly... something, tomorrow morning," Wade didn't know where that had come from, he wasn't aware of wanting to spend any more time with this girl. Maybe it was just relief that unlike the rest of his female co-workers these days, she wasn't merely fixing him with a scowl and trotting away with her nose pointed upwards.

"What's the something?" AJ asked, surprised and intrigued.

"Well, surely that's up to the lady to decide," What? She could suggest anything, he probably hated 90% of the things she'd want to do anyway, why had he given her that power? But he'd totally invalidate the gesture if he said no to anything.

"Hmm, wholesome, you say?" AJ began, looking upwards and tapping a finger on her chin. Then the light bulb went off, a memory of surveying the grounds of the hotel with Kaitlyn when they arrived earlier that day.

"There's an awesome miniature golf course at the back of the hotel. Me and Kaitlyn were gonna play a round tomorrow in fact, but the last I saw of her, I don't think sunlight and remaining vertical for an hour will be all that appealing to her."

"Miniature golf it is, then," Wade smiled. Then had a moment where he stepped outside himself and realised he was a former bare-knuckle fighting champion genuinely excited about the prospect of waking up to hit a plastic ball into a fibreglass castle.

"You know what we call that in England? You wouldn't like me to say it," he covered this 'what is my life?' moment up with yet another wisecrack.

"Huh?" she tilted her head to the side as she was wont to do.

"Umm... 'earmuffs, babe'" he said, in a Dolph Ziggler impression none too bad considering he'd missed 'generic American' by a country mile a few minutes earlier.

"Oh!" AJ giggled and pushed her hair behind her ear.

"A little melodramatic, isn't it, though? I can think of much crazier things,"

"Yeah, but we Brits are very reserved. Humorously-shaped golfing obstacles are all the insanity we can handle."

"Shame. Anyway, it opens at ten I think. We could get on there before it becomes strewn with ice cream cones and seagull droppings," she said brightly.

"Ten it is, I'm afraid I didn't pack my visor or my tartan trousers. An on that hilarious mental image I bid you goodnight,"

AJ barely had time to process that picture (although enough time to agree that it was indeed hilarious), before he lightly raised her right hand and kissed it. She knew it was laced with irony, but she still found it a very touching gesture. He was a good hand-kisser too, if there was such a thing.

"Goodnight!"

As Wade walked away, the part of his head he liked to refer to by his birth name, the cynical, take-no-crap street fighter that saw any emotion that wasn't rage or self-satisfaction as a sign of weakness, was screaming at him. Fair enough, help her out, at the very least it was always fun to see some poor sap turn to jelly with a mere glare in his direction, but this? Golf? In the morning which he should have left free to sleep off any potential hangover? He didn't do female friendships, and if the last outing was anything to go by, he didn't do romantic relationships either. Why was he distracting himself with those things?

Then 'Wade' put 'Stuart' in his place. AJ seemed like a sweet girl, she certainly didn't deserve the treatment he saw her getting at the hands of that jumped-up kid. It was perfectly natural to want to see more of someone, male or female, you felt a connection with. Yes, it might be an awkward disaster he'd come to regret, but if he never tried he'd never know.

AJ sat on the hotel bed and removed her shoes. The whole, surreal corridor exchange was replaying in her head, but the abiding feeling she got from it was one of changed perceptions. The kind, funny, if somewhat grouchy man who had given her a reason to get up tomorrow morning was the same man who could do no right by any woman on the roster and many of the men as well. That was the evil beast that had shattered poor Alicia's heart. Him. How? Was she just blind? By her own admission she had a terrible habit of trying to see the good in even the worst people. But in the end she was able to tell herself not to come to any drastic conclusions from this one chat. She'd find out more tomorrow morning. Miniature golf with the most hated man in WWE.

 


	2. Milkshakes

"Two! That means... that means I've won, doesn't it?" AJ wheeled away in celebration at the sound of the golf ball nestling in the final hole.

"Don't open the champagne just yet, love," replied Wade absent-mindedly as he determinedly scrutinised the scorecard, tallying up. It had been a close game. AJ was amused no end with how insistent he was upon keeping the correct score, that the outcome of a miniature golf game could mean so much to this scowling leviathan of a man.

"Bollocks, you're right," he grimaced as he finished his sums.

"YES!" she exclaimed excitedly, jumping high in the air with her knees bent, arms outstretched and club firmly gripped in her left hand.

"I never win at sport... miniature golf counts as a sport, right?"

"Well, no surprise that the one sport you've succeeded at is one where the implements are designed for children," he sneered, holding up his own club which he positively dwarfed.

"Someone's just bitter at losing to a girl," she said in a sing-song voice, looking up at him with a triumphant smirk.

"Believe me, my dear, as a long-suffering supporter of Preston North End Football Club, defeat is something I have learnt accept with grace." Football, soccer to these fools across the pond, was his crutch every time someone called him a glory-hound or a sore loser. He could have been a Manchester United fan if he wanted, but some things were more important to him than success.

"You have an answer for everything," she said, rolling her eyes, although the fact she could make such definite assertions about his character having only spent this short amount of time in his company showed how well they'd been getting along. But still she was waiting for him to show himself to be this villain the other girls, people whose opinions she valued and trusted, had him painted as. Yes, he was a little surly and abrasive and definitely not for everyone, but she respected him for that. She'd much rather someone speak their mind that put on painfully transparent airs and graces. It made her feel confident he was having a good time with her, the fact he wouldn't be above just walking away if he got bored.

"Well then, answer me this..." she continued, fixing him with a purposeful stare that she playfully hoped would make him feel something much more serious was about to come out of her mouth.

"What are we going to do about breakfast?"

Wade felt a flight reflex pulling at his chest. That same part of his mind that had nagged at him following his proposal the previous night was rebelling once again. He'd done his duty, he'd shown her a good time. It was Saturday morning, he should be in bed zoning out in front of the football scores on his laptop, not squiring some excitable little womanchild. 'Don't talk about her like that!' 'Wade' said to 'Stuart'. Yes, she was the kind of girl his old self would have dismissed in an instant; the sort of person who was either hopelessly sheltered or in denial, finding cheer in the most facile and mundane of things. Then, he could never have warmed to someone so optimistic, so sunny. But now it was a refreshing antidote, it comforted him to see someone not worn down by life's drudgery, still eager and hopeful like he had once been. She wasn't some deluded idiot, she was intelligent and grounded, she just preferred to look on the bright side. And he respected her for that.

He realised he'd been silent for a hell of a long time. So lacking the chance to give any serious thought muttered the most obvious answer.

"Back to the hotel, I suppose,"

"Wow, what an original idea. They really should move you up to Creative," AJ jested. He pushed her very lightly in response. That was just the sort of jibe he would make.

"Alright, then, shortarse. Where did you have in mind?" he said, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"That place," she replied almost instantly, pointing to a textbook roadside diner across the street. He'd never actually been to one his whole time in America.

"First time for everything, I suppose," he mused.

"You've never been to a diner?"

"Never seen the point. We have these places called 'greasy spoons' in England, it's basically the same thing without the milkshakes."

"Yeah, but the  _milkshakes_ ," she closed her eyes and made a sharp 'mmm' noise while a smile played at the corners of her mouth. He watched her bemused, he'd never been that excited about food or drink since he was a child.

"Come on!" she implored and dragged him toward the road.

* * *

"It's going on Twitter, you realise," AJ said, staring with wide-eyed glee at the image on her phone.

"It bloody well isn't, give that here!" Wade made a grab for the phone only for AJ to clasp it to her chest and place both hands over it. Not wanting to overstep any physical boundaries, he gave up his pursuit. They were back in the lobby of the hotel now. He'd just watched her demolish a mountain of pancakes and a giant vanilla milkshake in a matter of minutes, talking as quickly as possible to return to the business at hand. 'Where does she put it all?' he wondered, glancing down at her tiny frame as she continued to fidget with the phone in her hand.

He'd bought his own milkshake, after much coercion from AJ, and apparently the sight of his stoic face, hulking physique and plain black dress shirt contrasted with the lurid pink concoction set before him was so hilarious that she had to photograph it and share it with the world.

"OK, I'll level with you, Wade, I'll just set it as my background," she said, seeing him sigh with mild relief, before cheekily adding, "...but I'm still showing it to everyone at the arena tomorrow!"

"And they'll be just as unfathomably amused by it as you, will they?"

"All the cool people will, yeah," she nodded proudly. God, she should have irritated the hell out of him. Why didn't she? OK, she was quite pretty, but that alone shouldn't have caused him to forgive her. Somehow, her constant teasing and playing became more endearing by the minute. She returned to the phone, her brown eyes lighting up once again.

"Just look at your face, it looks like you're working out the logistics of how to Bullhammer that sumbitch right off the table," she giggled.

"Oh, and by the way, you've had some milkshake in your beard for, like, ever. I just didn't get round to telling you."

"Oh, for..." Wade began swatting furiously at his beard until finally some milky pink foam rubbed off on his hand.

"And what do I do with this now?" he moaned, flustered, thrusting his foam-covered hand in AJ's face. There she went with the giggles again.

"Just lick it off" she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But it's been in my beard,"

"Geez,  _your own_  beard, what's the worst that could happen?"

Wade shrugged and swept the all the foam from his hand with one long lash of his tongue. He lowered the hand to see AJ smirking and shaking her head.

"What?" he asked her.

"Just... I don't know,  _this_. All of this, it's been so unexpected and... nice. And if there's one thing my life seems short on lately, it's nice surprises."

"Well I'm glad you've enjoyed it."

"Have you?"

"Yeah, I have. And I know I've got a funny way of showing it."

"Haha, I'll say!"

All of a sudden there were no words, he just looked at her. He'd been underselling her, she wasn't just quite pretty, she was very pretty indeed. She was wearing very little make-up, if any, but still her complexion was flawless, her skin had an almost ethereal glow. Her eyes were wider and brighter than they had any right to be at this time in the morning. He could tell from the look in them that she was trying to figure him out just as he was her, a half-smile on her face.

Then all of a sudden a loud buzz snapped him from his reverie and she broke his gaze to look back down at her flashing phone.

"Kaitlyn: Fancy coming over to help me back into the land of the living? Hope I'm not interrupting you and Jason," she read aloud, then emitted a rising groan of frustration.

"I suppose I better go see her. If nothing else I can't have her go a minute longer with her thinking anything happened between me and...  _him_. And if Kaitlyn thinks that, then half the locker room probably thinks the same by now. Eugh, should have told him where to get off when we were back at the club."

"But if you did, we wouldn't be here now," Wade interjected, putting an arm sheepishly on her shoulder. He was secretly relieved when she didn't back away.

"Wait a minute, did you just look on the bright side?" she said, gasping and feigning shock with her eyes.

"I suppose I did," said Wade with an exaggerated gulp.

"Well, I guess my work here is done," AJ said, resting her hands on her hips.

"Don't be a stranger,  _mate_."

She leant her arms on his shoulders for leverage and kissed him briskly on the cheek and headed to the elevators before he could return the favour, turning back only once more to wave at him before disappearing behind the double doors.

Only now when he could retreat back into himself did Wade realise they extent to which his head was spinning. He fought for control. This couldn't happen. Not after last time. He didn't need anyone, and certainly no one needed him.


	3. Admission

AJ broke into a brisk trot as she made her way down the corridor to Kaitlyn's room. Normally, she'd be itching to catch up on all the gossip from the night before, but right now she'd much rather just be alone with her thoughts, and her thoughts all centred on the man she had waved goodbye to in the lobby mere minutes earlier.

She'd had a blast that morning. Sure, it was activities she probably would have done with Kaitlyn anyway, but the fact she'd made a new friend out of the bargain made it all the more special. And what a compelling, infinitely fascinating friend she seemed to have made. She got the feeling that, as abstract a concept as it was, beneath that almost permanently-affixed scowl he'd been smiling at her the whole time they'd been together, like he was fighting very hard to maintain his veneer of surly indifference. Unfortunately, she had very little to compare herself to with regard to how Wade behaved around her. She didn't know whether she was breaking new ground teasing out his playful side or if he was always giving off this vibe of clinging to the pigeon-hole people had placed him in, regardless of his true feelings.

Surely he was, surely she was nothing special. She'd only spent a matter of hours with the man for a start. She began chastising herself internally at her own arrogance. But then, he'd sincerely admitted he was enjoying himself, and even he couldn't hide the disappointment in his eyes when she said she had to go.

Her mind bolted then, and she knew there was no way of stopping it. He was single, so was she, they'd both had bad break-ups within the last six months, she'd felt comfortable with him almost instantly, and she was the most socially awkward person she knew. This had to mean something.

'Getting ahead of ourselves again here, April' she tried in vain to remind herself, but on the fantasies raced. She knocked harder than necessary on Kaitlyn's door, hoping to drown them out. The door opened slowly with a slight squeak, her best friend held the fingers of her left arm to her forehead while she rubbed a tired eye with the thumb.

"Shhh! Look, I know you've never had a hangover, but I'm sure you're familiar how it works," Kaitlyn moaned groggily.

"How do you do it? Seriously, girl, if I knew how to let off steam without the aid of alcohol, 80% of my life's problems would be solved."

"I'm just high on life," AJ said with the cheesiest grin she could muster and a cheeky wink.

"Oh, screw you!" Kaitlyn scoffed and the two friends shared a laugh as they made their way across the room.

"I didn't think it worth even asking if we were keeping to our golfing engagement this morning," AJ said as they occupied the two leather chairs beside the coffee table at the far end of the room. Kaitlyn already had two cups prepared.

"Actually, I've been up since 9. I'm not feeling that bad,  _relatively speaking_ " Kaitlyn nodded in the direction of the bed, and AJ noticed for the first time that they were not alone in the room. Aksana lay sprawled there, still fully clothed.

"I didn't trust her to find her way back to her floor," Kaitlyn explained.

"Twice she tried to leave and ended up in the closet or the bathroom!"

"Not like you to be the caring, responsible one on a night out," AJ said surprised.

"And what does that mean?" replied Kaitlyn in a high voice, gripping the arms of her chair in mock-outrage.

"It means that you've enough blackmail material on your phone to last a lifetime," AJ laughed.

"I never feel more glad I don't drink than when I have a look through your videos."

"OK, I'm the kind of girl who'll hold your hair back while you puke with one hand and film it with the other, so sue me." Kaitlyn chortled unapologetically. AJ wouldn't have her any other way.

"Anyway..." began Kaitlyn, reclining with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees, a growing smirk and a tone of relish that told AJ exactly where the conversation was about to head.

"You and Jason. Did we board the bus to Cougartown?"

"No, of course not!" AJ retorted, leaning forward to give Kaitlyn a cautionary slap on the knee.

"You know me better than that, Kaitie."

"Yep, the April Mendez paradox," Kaitlyn sighed wearily,

"Can't say no to anyone, except when they're trying to get into your pants, then the opposite is true. So how did he take it, finding out he'd picked up Mother Teresa?"

AJ brushed off that jibe and launched into an explanation: "Not well, not very well at all. To be honest, if Wade hadn't showed up, things could've gotten ugly."

"Wade Barrett?" Kaitlyn queried, her eyes widening with trepidation.

"Yeah, of course. He was really sweet about it, we'd just been for golf and breakfast when you texted."

Kaitlyn didn't like this one bit, the thought of that man getting his claws into her best friend filled her with dread. And no doubt she was just the sort of too-nice-for-her-own-good girl he'd seek to take advantage of. And AJ's voice as she recounted their morning activities suggested any plan he might have had was working like a charm.

"April, seriously!" she said, her outrage now very real.

"You saw what happened to Alicia, why would you even go within a mile of that jerk? He's a dangerous, vindictive, shitty guy and you know it."

"Sorry, did I say Charles Manson? I meant Wade Barrett." AJ spat back sarcastically. She couldn't believe Kaitlyn was taking the party line on the man over her best friend's first-hand experience.

"You know that for a fact he's a monster, do you? You've had as little to do with him as I have."

Her little fists balled with rage and her eyes took on the glint they had when her on-screen character had one of her manic 'episodes'. The whole thing was ridiculous, really. Here she was railing against her closest and most trusted friend in defence of a man who'd done one nice thing for her earlier that day. But she just knew Kaitlyn was wrong.

"But enough people whose opinion I value say that..."

AJ cut her off at the pass: "And I suppose you're Alicia's best friend as well? Have you even spoken to her about what happened?"

"All I know is she's on a month's compassionate leave all because of him. I saw her change. I saw that bubbly, cheerful girl turn into a nervous wreck. Trying to please him. Trying her damndest to make it work while he stood idly by and let her heart break."

Kaitlyn's voice had gotten increasingly shaky throughout that diatribe. She paused, her heavy breathing that was reverberating through her entire body the only noise. She reached forward, tightly grasping both of AJ's hands in hers in a way that made AJ instinctively lean in closer and look into her ovular brown eyes, where tears formed at the edges.

"I won't let him even start to do that to you, April," her voice at lowered to a whisper, the lump building in her throat readily apparent.

AJ was absolutely baffled, on the one hand Kaitlyn's very intense concern for her was touching, but she couldn't believe the ferocity of her opposition, how advanced and entrenched the image of Wade as this cancer that would eat away at the heart of any girl he infected was in her best friend's mind. Regardless, she knew yelling at her any further wouldn't serve to placate her. She released her right thumb from out of Kaitlyn's grasp and began rubbing it soothingly across Kaitlyn's left knuckle.

"We've had one very innocent, very platonic morning together, Kaitie. We're not getting married," she said in a calm, reassuring croon.

"But you want more, I can tell by how you spoke about him just then." Kaitlyn almost whispered in response. AJ felt that somehow, moments like this, turning on a dime from apoplectic rage to tender reassurance of one another, showed how deep their friendship ran.

"I'll admit, things went very well and naturally my mind has already started to wander in that direction, but it's  _one morning_. It could be nothing, and if he wasn't interested, or there was any sign of trouble, I'd get out of there."

"You didn't with Trent."

"Well, you live and learn. I can look after myself... although that doesn't mean I'm not incredibly glad to know you're looking out for me too."

Kaitlyn eased herself onto her feet, pausing for a moment to let her aching head adjust to the change in altitude, then manoevred around the table and motioned to AJ with her arms. As she had so many times before, AJ joined her on her feet and fell into her embrace.

"I try so hard not to mother you, dear, I really do," Kaitlyn said with a tearful laugh.

"Hey, the day when you stop wagging your finger at me is the day I'll worry you don't care anymore," AJ answered, grinning, as they separated.

"I'm going to take a shower. There's some A-grade unintentional hilarity on public-access here, you should check it out," Kaitlyn said, thrusting the television remote into AJ's hand before scooping up her various potions off the dresser and heading into the bathroom.

AJ smiled fondly in her wake. Sometimes voices needed to be raised first, but Kaitlyn always came through. She always had her back. It had been one of the few constants in her life in the past couple of years and it was certainly the one she most treasured.

'But anyway, back to Wade,' a voice said from within her. She rested her left hand on the windowsill and gazed absent-mindedly at the skyline as the outcome of her and Kaitlyn's conversation mingled with and altered the thoughts of him that already swam around her head. Like Kaitlyn, she was far from close to Alicia, but it was hard not to notice her mental state deteriorating during her time with Wade, to see her transform from the life and soul of the Divas locker room to silently moping in the corner barely glancing up from her feet, struggling to coax a smile onto her face come showtime.

But surely there was more to it than met the eye? It was a lazy, obvious conclusion for people to come to, after all. Cold, cruel Wade Barrett gradually sapping the joy out of a sweet, innocent girl too weak to stand up to him and too unsure of herself to realise she could do better and should get the hell out of there. Like some real-life version of her and Daniel Bryan's storyline from the previous year. That's right, it was so lazy and obvious that WWE Creative could have come up with it.

And, unnecessary though it was, Kaitlyn's bringing up of Trent wasn't without foundation, if only as an example of how hard and fast she tended to fall for someone. If the rumours proved true, if behind the veneer of a reluctant gentleman lay a callous tormentor, could she pull out of the dive before it was too late?

"You don't know what to think, do you?" the voice was soft, but it gave AJ the fright of her life, startling her so much she actually left her feet. She'd vanished completely inside her head, her only real consciousness of the world around her being the distant trickle of water that told her Kaitlyn was still otherwise engaged and she was free to wallow uninterrupted for the time being. She'd forgotten all about Kaitlyn's other guest. Their brief war of words had jolted her from her slumber and she'd been silently watching events unfold ever since.

AJ turned from the window to see Aksana beaming at her with eyebrows raised, clear quite pleased with having bided her time and given her such a shock.

"God, I forgot you were even here!" AJ said, catching her breath against the windowsill and placing a hand to her chest.

"It's a difficult one, huh?" Aksana chirped, her head still resting on her pillow. Her tone was quite hard for AJ to place, she could easily be genuinely trying to help or delighting in taunting her. She'd done both in the past. AJ knew quite a lot of frustratingly enigmatic people when she came to think of it.

"It's a question of, how you say, heart against mind. You desperately want this man to be the man your fantasies are making him out to be. But all evidence from all other sources points to him being the opposite."

"...Yeah," replied AJ, stunned, when what she really wanted to do was scream 'GET OUT OF MY HEAD!' Aksana had many positive qualities, but being erudite and profound, in English at least, certainly wasn't one of them. This was the verbal equivalent of Mark Henry suddenly revealing himself to be an accomplished ballet dancer.

"Imagine if roles were reversed, imagine if he was the one hearing mixed messages about you. You would hope he'd find out for himself, you would hope he'd trust his heart until proven conclusively wrong, am I right?"

AJ was gaping at her aghast by now and could only manage an affirmative 'hmm'.

"So follow your heart, AJ. This could be a mistake, yes, but letting this pass you by could be an even bigger one."

"And what do you think will happen?" AJ asked anxiously, Aksana's word was gospel in her mind now. She'd seldom spoken to someone this perceptive.

"Well, the important thing to remember is: there is a clear difference between the uninhibited and..."

Aksana broke off as the bathroom door swung open and Kaitlyn emerged draped in a towel. By the time AJ had glanced up at Kaitlyn and back down at the bed, the dark-haired Lithuanian had closed her eyes and now looked as if she'd remained dead to the world. AJ couldn't leave it there, she had so much more yet she wanted to glean from this most unexpected of oracles. She began shaking Aksana's arm frantically.

"You weren't finished! Aksana!"

"...Huh? Ugh, leave me alone, AJ, I'm hanging over real bad," she said in a voice so dazed and distant she could have been sleeping for decades.

"You were in the middle of telling me something!" AJ went on adamantly, wondering what her game was.

"About the difference between the uninhibited and... I don't know, tell me!"

"What? What is unibited?"

"Uninhibited! Why are you playing dumb with me?"

"Go away, annoying child," she groaned before closing her heavy-lidded eyes and rolling over to face away from her.

"Leave her be, April, she's sleeping off five tequila slammers," Kaitlyn implored.

"But she... just then she was..." AJ began, but she knew it was no use. If Aksana was determined to play dumb for whatever reason, Kaitlyn would never believe her just as AJ didn't believe it herself when Aksana had begun imparting her wisdom.

But she'd heard enough to convince her. If her and Wade weren't meant to be, it would not be for the want of trying.

 


	4. Fallen

"BO DALLAS?! I MEAN, SERIOUSLY?! BO... FUCKING... DALLAS?!" the man the wrestling world knew as Dolph Ziggler raged, viciously booting the locker with each word.

"That pre-pubescent, white meat, cookie cutter... UGH!" with another boot, his gym bag spun across the floor into the far wall.

AJ looked on unimpressed from the wooden bench, wanting to be almost anywhere else in the world right now. She respected her on-screen boyfriend immensely as a performer. He was incredibly talented and she could fully understand his outrage at the latest bad hand he'd been dealt by management. But she didn't relish being alone with him off-camera at the best of times. She considered it a testament to her acting ability that she could do such a convincing job of seeming utterly besotted with a man who was in reality her polar opposite. He wasn't a bad guy per se, far from it, but she got the nagging feeling that had they met in high school he would probably have bullied her.

Having Big E Langston around usually served to ease any tension, his inscrutable calmness and out-of-the-blue witticisms were a delight they could both share in, but on this particular occasion the affable former powerlifter was nowhere to be found, and Dolph's demeanour was anything but inscrutably calm.

They'd just left a meeting with Vince McMahon and his Creative team in their temporary office at the arena. Having previously been told he would end Wrestlemania as World Heavyweight champion having finally cashed in his Money in the Bank contract, Dolph would instead be losing to the newest apple of Vince's eye, 22-year-old Bo Dallas, in the pre-show match. The runaway success of Jack Swagger's 'real American' angle had caused his cash-in to be put back indefinitely while new plans were formed. AJ hadn't fared too well out of the reshuffle either. In the immediate aftermath of Wrestlemania, Dolph's neglect of his girlfriend in favour of his newly-acquired gold was to have led her into a face turn and her long-promised return to regular in-ring competition. A Chickbusters reunion with Kaitlyn had even been mooted. Now she was to remain by Ziggler's side, arm candy for the forseeable future.

Ordinarily after news like this, she might have been giving Dolph a run for his money in the tantrum stakes, but in present circumstances, it barely registered with her. Just another thing to be disappointed about. It had been three and a half weeks since her and Wade's hotel encounter. She'd tried, God had she tried, to 'follow her heart' like Aksana said, but the object of her affections had cranked the indifference up to 11. In that time she'd never managed anything more than a quick 'Hi, how are you?' back-and-forth when they happened across each other at various hotels and arenas. He was perfunctory, polite, plain with her. No sardonic quips to make her giggle, no disappointed droops of his head when she left, nothing. He was resolutely neutral in response to her presence, and in many ways that was worse than if he'd flat-out told her he wasn't interested.

She lacked the self-confidence to force the issue, she didn't want to embarrass herself with any out-of-turn declaration of affection and she feared rejection too much to put forward any proposal that they should spend more time together. She was completely cut adrift.

"I'm in my prime, I'm not supposed to be putting over rookies. That's Paul's job, or Glenn's, or Mark's," Dolph's lament continued as he paced back and forth.

"You've still got the briefcase though, your time will come," AJ thought she better offer some consolation, though she fully expected to be shot down.

"Yeah,  _for now_ , until I drop it to Hornswoggle in a lingerie match on Superstars," Dolph snorted. AJ let out an involuntary chuckle at that image. Big mistake.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, APRIL?" he bent down so he was right in her face, arms outstretched by his sides incensed. She flinched.

He went on: "This is my career we're talking about, and while we're at it, why didn't you back me up in there?"

"Because I've been here long enough to know screaming at the boss gets you nowhere," AJ replied dryly, swallowing her fear and going nose to nose with him.

"Oh yeah? What about Punk? What about Austin? Do you think they got where they did by letting Vince and his goons spoon-feed them their crap?"

"The difference is they had their own vision to offer as an alternative. They didn't just bitch and moan."

"You don't get it, I've had everything I've worked for seven years for dangled in front of my face then snatched away time after time after FUCKING time!" he growled, punctuating the expletive with a stamp of his foot.

"In case you weren't paying attention, I got a pretty bad hand there too," she said with conviction. The numbness she'd been carrying had faded, Dolph's unwarranted aggression towards her had dragged her out of her stupor, her chest tightening and her head rushing.

At her latest retort he sat heavily down beside her, extending his arm behind her to brace himself on the wall, allowing him to get close to her face as possible.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." he began in a high, patronising tone of mock-sympathy.

"...oh,  _poor_  AJ. Yeah, you never get what  _you_  want from Vinny Mac. It's not like you've spent the last twelve months involved in world title storylines, managing Raw, taking TV time from people who actually have something to offer other than a tight body and a pretty smile. You don't know what a bad hand is, you've had everything given to you on a plate without doing a thing to deserve it. Then they saddled me with you, made me Cena's punching bag to further your little soap opera, made me look like sh..."

Her hand struck him hard under the left eye with a satisfying crack. He was so busy getting in her face that he hadn't see her take a big swing back with her right arm.

"Don't you DARE blame me!" she shrilled.

He staggered back along the bench, rubbing his cheek where she was pleased to see she'd drawn a little blood. His face appeared to acknowledge he'd gone way too far, but he was far too proud and riled-up to offer any sort of apology. He glanced at her and gave a frustrated flare of his nostrils before storming out the door.

AJ buried her head in her hands, running her fingers up into her thick brown hair. She'd faced trying personal and professional circumstances plenty of times, but never simultaneously like she did at that moment. And to think, for that one sunny morning in San Jose, the future had looked so bright.

The war in Wade Barrett's head was all but over. ' _Stuart_ ' was in almost complete control and he'd been able to drive all thoughts of AJ, of Alicia, of anything that obstructed his path to the top of WWE, from his head. He still had needs in that department of course and he'd been fulfilling them the way he always used to, meaningless flings with countless different women in countless different beds.

News from Creative was good; he'd be dropping his Intercontinental title to Seth Rollins in a fatal four-way at Wrestlemania, but following month held in store a feud with Sheamus that could potentially re-establish him as a main event performer.

He strode along the corridor with a renewed sense of purpose. In the opposite direction passed a sore, seething Money in the Bank holder. It looked as if the rumours were true, he'd been given Wade's old job of helping force Bo Dallas down the audience's unwilling throats. However, speaking of sticking things down throats, Wade couldn't feel too bad for a man who was paid to passionately kiss AJ on a regular basis...

' _Woah_!'

...not to worry, a thought like that hadn't crossed his mind in weeks, as long as it was weeks before it happened again he was OK.

But then he passed the locker room with the door hanging open. Out of instinctive curiosity he glanced inside. It was hours before showtime, those who didn't have engagements with Creative hadn't even arrived yet, so he fully expected it to be empty. But there she was, elbows slumped forlornly onto her knees, every facial feature except her nose obscured by her hands. It didn't take Wade long to make the connection between this apparition and the one that had tore past him in the corridor seconds ago. She didn't look up as he lingered in the doorway.

' _She hasn't noticed you. If you walk away now she won't even know you had the chance to help her_.'

That Machiavellian train of thought that had briefly been derailed by the thoughts of AJ and Dolph was now well and truly back on the rails. But this time someone was fighting to put on the brakes.

The feelings he'd been turning to a simmer were slowly bubbling up at the sight of her there looking so vulnerable, knowing his own calculated apathy may have contributed to her misery. But he knew there was no way he could convince her it was for her own good that he made himself steer clear, that it was a good thing that he suppressed all the positive emotions that merely setting eyes on her instantly imbued him with.

He was standing still, he wasn't leaving.

' _She's got friends, she doesn't need you_.'

But where were they now? He thought Dolph was her friend, apparently not.

' _Comfort her now and you'll only give her false hope_.'

Just a few kind words wouldn't go amiss, surely?

_'Just turn your back. Out of sight, out of mind._ '

He did it, a swift flick of his heel and the heart-rending image spun out of view. But his shoe made a faint scuffing noise on the floor.

' _Keep moving, keep moving._ '

"Don't go," it was barely a squeak, maybe she didn't even mean to say it out loud. But he heard it clear as day; pained, anxious and pleading.

That heartless bastard that had been trying to make him abandon her melted away in the rush as he swooped down onto the bench beside her, draping his arm around her and resting his cheek gently on the top of her head.

' _Stuart_ ' still barracked him from somewhere below the surface: ' _This can't happen! You're going to fall!_ '

She looked at him, relieved but disbelieving. She was almost painfully delicate; those big, dark chocolate eyes, expressive beyond compare with tears shimmering on their surface. The warmth of her slender frame as his arm completely enveloped it at the waist. The feel of her little heart hammering at her chest as she leant into him.

' _You're falling!_ '

Her head came to rest just below his collarbone as her right arm wrapped around his left side, fingers gripping him tightly at the ribs. He lowered his mouth and nose into her silken tresses, inhaling their scent. Rich vanilla. Like the milkshake she had that morning in San Jose. He placed a tender kiss on her crown.

"Let me guess? Ziggy thought he'd show how he's above facing a rookie by acting like a spoilt kid? Oh, the irony!" he said softly.

She nodded with a full-face smile.

"And what about this miserable bastard?" he asked, pointing to himself.

"I suppose he's to blame for this as well?"

She hesitated. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as if to say 'be honest.' She nodded furiously and smiled again.

"Would dinner tonight go some way towards making up for it?" he enquired hopefully.

She buried her head back in his chest again. He felt that light wobbling sensation at his breast and his shirt slowly begin to dampen. He wrapped both arms around, hoping he was applying the right amount of pressure to hold her as tightly as he could without hurting her.

Amidst the heady cocktail of concern, euphoria and nervousness careening around his mind, he heard it. Defeated, deflated, definite.

' _You've fallen_.'

 


	5. Invitation

"He has a major, like, moral opposition to posing for pictures. He says as soon as a photograph is staged it's drained of any emotional resonance or sentimental value," AJ babbled excitably.

"...not that I remember his exact words or anything" she added with a self-conscious laugh. Kaitlyn opened her mouth to speak but her best friend's next wave of animated gushing drowned her out. AJ had long since stopped moderating the volume of her voice and the other patrons in the cafe were beginning to stare.

"So, I thought I'd try and kiss him and snap it before he realised what was going on. It didn't quite work, but he looks so adorably disgruntled!"

Kaitlyn gave a fond chuckle, partly at the image AJ had just described which she now thrust under her nose in the form of her phone background, but mainly at how the last fortnight had transformed the woman sat opposite her into a lovelorn teenager in the deepest throes of a crush. It was irritating in practice but sweet enough in principle for her to forgive it. AJ didn't fall for many men but when she did, she more than made up for lost time.

"OK, you have a new boyfriend, I get it," Kaitlyn grinned, then arched her eyebrows with mischievous intrigue at what she thought was a slight wince on AJ's face at the mention of the word 'boyfriend'.

"Wait, what was that?"

"What was what?"

"You just winced when I called him your boyfriend."

"No I didn't!"

"You did it again!"

"That wasn't a wince, it was just, you know, a twitch... an involuntary, meaningless..."

"You don't 'twitch', dear. You do, however, have a history of self-doubt and hesitation when it comes to the opposite sex. So come on, what is it this time?"

AJ's face fell, Kaitlyn wasn't going to let her get out of this. Much as she liked to pretend all was rosy in her garden since that wonderful evening in Cleveland two weeks prior; when Wade had finally, beautifully, proved her right about everything she hoped he could be to her, there was still one pretty major bump left to navigate on the road to 'official' relationship status. And, having waited so long for him to respond to her silent longing, she didn't dare raise this most thorny of issues due to two crippling fears: That taking him back to this painful place in his past may reawaken questions about his own character in his mind, driving him away from her once again, and that what she would find out out would reveal the glorious vision of him she was creating to be but a grand illusion.

Kaitlyn's face suddenly took on an expression of realisation, then pity.

"Alicia."

No matter how much AJ tried to tell herself that all of the kindness, the affection, the devotion that Wade was now prepared to show her proved his culpability for Alicia's emotional tailspin was greatly exaggerated, only a detailed, honest account of what really occurred between Alicia and Wade would put AJ's mind at rest. Only the whole truth could allow her to make her final decision on whether or not they could be together.

"April, if he really is the man you desperately hope he is, he won't begrudge you wanting to know the real story. He'll see you're entitled to an explanation," Kaitlyn began. There was a voice she only rolled out for these situations. From anyone else would sound condescending and weary, but when AJ heard it she knew all of Kaitlyn's efforts were going into relieving her of her troubles.

"I know, it's just... I mean, it's so nice when we're together," she began, now prepared to fully open up knowing Kaitlyn was all hers.

"I always think: 'This is fine. Why risk spoiling it?' I know I want it to get serious eventually, but this is better than nothing."

"But it's a lie. I know that sounds harsh, but it is. If Wade is really the one for you, you shouldn't have to fear asking him anything. And, most importantly, if he has nothing to hide, if he really trusts you with his most private thoughts, he'll have no trouble letting you in." Kaitlyn was on red-hot form here, AJ thought, had she been somehow absorbing Aksana's hidden wisdom?

"I'm just so scared."

"It's four words. _Four_ : What. Happened. With. Alicia? Say those four words and ten minutes later all the doubts about your future are gone."

AJ sighed conflictedly. Kaitlyn made it sound so simple. But she was right. She absent-mindedly chewed on her bagel, wishing she could have Kaitlyn there to hold her hand when she asked him, to console her if it went wrong. God, she hated feeling so weak.

"What's he doing tomorrow night?" Kaitlyn suddenly asked forthrightly, leaning her elbows down on the table and causing the coffee in the cups to tremble.

"N-nothing, as far as I know."

"Invite him over. Don't tell him what it's about, say you just fancy some company."

"Isn't that lying?"

"Not really. I mean, all being well you'll want to hang out once the serious business is done, right? You may even want to get down to another kind of busi..."

"Can you not go there, just for once?" AJ appealed.

"Sorry," Kaitlyn smiled, having got exactly the rise she wanted out of her prudish friend.

"OK... here goes," breathed AJ, picking her phone up off the table.

_'Anything planned for tomorrow night? Whatever you're doing, it can't be cooler than hanging with me. Fancy taking a trip down the 275 to see your little pocket rocket? xxx'_

"Pocket rocket?" Kaitlyn queried.

"Kaity! You're not supposed to look!" scolded AJ gently, defensively yanking the phone upwards.

"How do you even read upside down from that distance?"

"These eyes spend most of their days invading people's privacy, they're pretty fine-tuned by now," grinned Kaitlyn.

"Well, back in FCW, Wade did some commentary while he was injured. Which he totally owned at, by the way. In one of my matches, he suddenly comes out with:" she buried her chin into her neck to ready her throat for the impression of Wade she liked to tease him with mercilessly.

"'That AJ, she's a little pocket rocket!' I'm amazed he still remembers."

Kaitlyn bit her bottom lip. She knew AJ was going to be absolutely crushed if she didn't like what she heard from Wade. He'd better hope for his sake he had a good explanation. She'd spear him out of his boots if not.

 


	6. Truth

_'You know full well you're one of the few people I can stand. Of course I have no plans. See you tomorrow, love xxx'_

This was it, her destiny hanging in the balance of this one evening. She'd barely slept the night before, barely eaten that day, and struggled to find anything else that genuinely occupied her mind. She was 20 minutes from knowing whether she'd made one of the best or the worst decisions of her life.

He wished they'd all just get out of the way. Bloody Yanks. Changing lanes, merging or whatever they called it, without looking. He wanted to focus his mind solely on what lay ahead of him. On her. A relentless ray of sunshine, representing a serene world untouched by the darkness and the danger he'd found himself all too well-acquainted with in his early adulthood, and he wanted to make sure she stayed that way. He wanted to be the one to keep her safe and happy, to make sure she never developed the hard-bitten scepticism he'd come to personify. Each hour he spent in her company he could feel himself mellow, and while a part of him continued to chide him for going so soft, for letting a girl get under his skin having sworn it would never happen again, another part just knew it was different this time. And tonight he'd finally tell her those things. She couldn't say no, could she?

Headlights reflected on the window. She checked herself in the mirror one last time. She'd not made any special effort with her appearance, just a green vest top and a pair of black jogging pants. If he was going to be frequenting her home, he'd need to get used to what she liked to slob around the house in after all.

A sharp knock at the door. Her little chihuahua stirred from his sleep and snapped upright on high alert. She opened it. Damn him, did he ever dress down? He was sharp as ever in an immaculate red dress shirt under a black jacket with white pinstripes and matching trousers, an expensive-looking watch glistening under the hallway light. Against this, she felt like trash. Like he was Jerry Springer and she was a Tennessee trailer park girl trying to find her baby daddy. Dear Lord did he look handsome though. His hair fell loose and fluffy unlike the painstaking gelling regime he put it through when he was performing. His beard framed that sheepish smile, as if being genuinely happy embarrassed him slightly. 'Don't get too attached. Not yet' she told herself reproachfully.

If he hadn't established it already, now he knew for sure this was the most naturally beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her smile was on a different plain entirely from any other. But something seemed off about it tonight as she greeted him with a peck on the cheek and led him in, even her walk seemed stiffer. She was nervous.

"Say hello, Nacho!" she cooed to the tiny animal guarding his bed at the foot of the stairs. Instantly the dog began growling and staring down this unfamiliar entity who had crash-landed on his territory and gotten close to his master.

"You know, you're a real dick sometimes, Nacho," she laughed.

"Seems like a right moody bugger," mused Wade.

"Probably means we're gonna get on well."

A couple of hours had passed, which they had mostly spent laying waste to Dolph Ziggler in various handicap match combinations on WWE '13. To his eternal credit, the real Dolph had in fact sent a lengthy and sincere apology text to AJ the morning after his outburst, ensuring that only his virtual self would be facing Wade's wrath.

AJ was unusually subdued throughout. If she was giddy and playful around him normally, their only previous Xbox session together had sent her into overdrive. But tonight she was going about the business of laying the cybernetic smackdown on her storyline boyfriend in near-silence, barely glancing in Wade's direction.

Wade couldn't take it any more. As soon as their latest victory was secured he turned the television to standby with the remote at his side, causing her to snap round to look at him.

"You know, if you were bored you could have just said," she sighed, rather perturbed.

"There's something on your mind. I mean, besides being in awe of how I, a man who prior to meeting you had seldom touched a video game since he first discovered girls in the summer of 1997, am already almost as good as you," he thought this quip necessary to lighten the mood and make it feel less like an interrogation

' _Four words. Four words. Four words_.'

Kaitlyn's voice looped ad infinitum in AJ's head. This droplet of pain and anxiety that was asking the question could lead to a waterfall of bliss. Or of agony. Either way, she couldn't hold her tongue any longer. She took a shallow but anxious breath.

"I... I wanted t-to ask you..." her voice failed her when she met his piercing green eyes. Why was this so hard? She dipped her head, and didn't see him shift towards her along the sofa.

"You can ask me anything, poppet," he smiled, placing his hands gently on her rounded little shoulders, massaging her bare skin in the hope of giving her the reassurance she needed to let go of whatever was troubling her. Suddenly, she swallowed hard and found her voice with a vengeance.

"I want to know... _need_  to know... what happened... with you and Alicia."

Wade removed his hands from her body, placing the right one over his face and the left over his stomach. He knew it had been coming. He knew it all along. He would have been a fool not to expect it and would be thoroughly undeserving of her affection if he thought she wasn't entitled to an honest answer. He lowered his palm from his eyes to see her perched tentatively on the edge of the sofa, trembling with anticipation.

"OK..." he said finally.

"...but I want you to remember that this is the past, the old me. I'm a different person now, and it's you that's helping me change, that's killing the last remnants of that... that excuse for a man."

She nodded pensively, as to her own self-disgust she felt the tears begin to form. She'd promised herself not to cry in front of him again so soon after last time, and she hadn't even heard what he had to say yet. His opening gambit filled her with both warmth and worry that he felt need to insert this disclaimer.

"I was never a relationship person. I'd gone through my twenties by and large treating women like, for the want of a better term, absolute shit. And coming here, getting my WWE contract, it just made all that so much easier to do. I didn't even need to try anymore, if I wanted it, I could get it... and then there was Alicia."

"She wasn't like any other girl I'd met. She just made me feel so... protective toward her, loyal, you know. I hadn't had those feelings before, that this was someone I wanted to stand by. I'd spent my life watching anyone who didn't look after number one get screwed over, getting dragged down with someone in the name of this thing they called love when alone they would have been infallible. I thought I was winning somehow by not letting anyone get under my skin, not putting anyone else's needs on a par with mine. Alicia was the first time I questioned that, the first time I thought: 'You know what? Perhaps love isn't a weakness after all'"

"Your first real relationship gets you the same way when you're thirty-one as it does when you're seventeen. You want it to go on forever no matter how little sense it makes, no matter how unsuited to each other you are. You think, somehow, it's your one and only chance, that you'd be a fool to let it go. And that was the problem here."

"Me and Alicia were a three-monther, tops, but through my own refusal to admit defeat and deal her the ultimate blow as it were, we somehow went eighteen. And for the majority of that time I was forcing feelings that simply weren't there, I was constantly having to take a break from the exhaustion of pretending, which meant pushing her away, spurning her with no real explanation. At first, at first I did it in the hope she'd do the hard work for me and kick me into touch. But I quickly realised that was never going to happen. That girl loved me, God help her. There was no way not to break her heart, but I chose the worst way possible. Lies and torture."

"I've tried and tried to speak to her, to apologise, I haven't heard a word. I... see that face... her face when I finally came clean, every day. I feel like I always will. It may never have been my intention, but I demolished her. And if she never rebuilds, if she never forgives me, I'll never forgive myself."

"So that's that: The story of the sweet, patient, loving girl with a heart of pure gold and the lily-livered, spineless scumbag who bled her dry. If you don't want me within ten miles of you now, April, I understand entirely."

She'd just stared at him transfixed throughout the whole tragic story. She'd come to understand him better in those few minutes than she had the rest of their time together combined. All the while she saw him as so much more experienced than her, a veteran who'd seen and done it all in the arena of love. But it was never more apparent the difference between love and sex than with a man like Wade. Sure, he had innumerable notches on his bedpost, but beneath the exterior of a well-worn 31-year-old man lay the heart of a boy. He'd never known love, he'd mistook the first romantic connection he'd made for the real thing, and panicked when things didn't go to plan. Hearts didn't play by the same rules as anything else in life and that took some getting used to. Most people learnt that when they were young enough for such indiscretions to be forgiveable. Wade had the misfortune of not finding out until such behaviour marked you out as the lowest of the low.

But she knew love, and she knew determination. She saw them both in his eyes when he looked at her. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He'd either get it right or get out, and she wanted to make sure it was the former. She wanted to be his first.

She put her shins down on the sofa and leant her upper body towards him, her face coming level with his, which was crumpled and contorted with anger and sorrow. She lifted her left arm and touched the bottom of his chin, forcing him to look at her. He wasn't crying, but there was still an uncharacteristically lost, childlike look in those green eyes of his. He'd been there for her when she felt lost, now it was her turn to return the favour.

"You were out of your depth. You didn't know what to do. You're not a bad person, Wade. A truly bad man wouldn't regret what he did, wouldn't learn from his mistakes, and most importantly in this situation, he wouldn't make me want to do this..."

Sliding her knees forward so she was right beside him, she threw both arms around his thick, sturdy neck, bringing her mouth to his, their lips beginning a slow, instinctive dance, as those big hands, powerful yet gentle in their touch, began roving her back. His tongue hit her teeth, almost asking permission to be let inside, which she granted instantly. Their tongues dueled for control as their hands became more adventurous in their exploration of one another. When they finally released, Wade was leant back against the arm of the sofa, his legs stretching across the cushions to the other end. AJ lay next to him on her side, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

He glanced down at her. God, that smile was something else. And she'd understood him better than he did himself. The guilt he'd been carrying, the fear that him and love were over before they started, had gone. She made him realise what the problem was, that finding someone just right was the only solution. And in this moment, he could not see how that someone could not be AJ.

"Come here, sweetheart," he implored softly, using his arms to bring her body flush against him, clasping his right hand behind her head and arching his own head so his mouth was directly positioned next to her left ear. It was like the mechanism that filtered out any of what he would call 'soft' talk to prevent it leaving his lips had broken. At this moment he could only think in romantic cliche.

"You're the most beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, amazing girl I've ever met," he whispered indulgently.

"I'm going to make you so happy, I promise."

"The same to you," she beamed adoringly.

"I'm a beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, amazing  _girl_?" he questioned.

"Damn right, sister" she laughed softly and shut her eyes.

He didn't know how long they'd been asleep. Or rather how long _he'd_  been asleep. AJ remained in peaceful slumber on his chest, a look of tranquil satisfaction on her face. He kissed her forehead enthusiastically in almost disbelief. He'd told her his darkest secret and she'd stayed. It was over, he'd won. And there was no way he was leaving her side tonight, lack of a toothbrush be damned.

He cradled her head in his left arm as he shifted his feet back on to the floor, then scooped his right arm under her legs and hoisted her up with him. Light as a feather, she'd no doubt be pleased to know.

In fact, him stirring beneath her had interrupted her nap, but she didn't want him to know. She didn't want to talk or look, just feel his presence, his hot, wet lips making sensual contact with her forehead, his powerful arms supporting her as they moved across the room, Wade stepping slowly and as evenly as possible so as not to wake her.

"She's gorgeous, isn't she?" he suddenly whispered. Who could he be talking to? A familiar canine growl answered her question.

"Don't worry, mate, she's safe with me. I'll look after her."

The growling continued.

"Oh, sorry,  _we'll_  look after her."

Then they were on the move again, up the stairs, into the bedroom, she felt his arms slide from beneath her and the mattress take their burden. The quilt came next, it felt like Wade was making a concerted effort to ensure that she was completely covered. There then followed several seconds of clinking and rustling as he undressed, now more than ever she felt like opening her eyes, but there'd be plenty of time to enjoy that in the morning. She rolled onto her side. The mattress responded to his weight as he lay down beside her. Then those arms were back, enclosing her stomach and pulling her back possessively towards his chest.

As her consciousness bade her farewell once again, a familiar but all-too-rare feeling crept over her.

'Hello, contentment. It's been way too long.'

 


	7. Guilt

_'Sorry for being such a prude :('_

_'Prude? You? That goodbye kiss was many things but chaste was not one of them. Still blushing now'_

_'You know what I mean...'_

_'I said it then and I'll say it again now. I can't think of anything more worth the wait outside of the realms of pure fantasy... and even then only Preston winning_   _the Champions League would come close'_

_'Who winning the what now?'_

_'All will become clear in time, love. Your conversion into a North Ender will begin shortly. You must share in my pain!'_

_':S We're very different, aren't we?'_

_'That's why it works, my little pocket rocket. I needed some bright New Jersey sunshine in my life just like you needed some dreary Lancashire drizzle xxx'_

_'It rains half the time in Jersey too, you know. But it's a sweet metaphor, so I'll let it slide. Plus you said pocket rocket again 3 3'_

AJ had a hard time wrapping her head around it. That a man so used to instant sexual gratification would be so accepting of her preference for, well, quite the opposite. She wished to high heaven she didn't feel that way. She knew she had nothing to fear from Wade. The necessary affection and attraction was present in abundance, but at the end of the day, she'd known the man for five weeks and whether she liked it or not, she was a slave to her rigid moral code. There was a barrier there and were she to break it she would do so with so much unease and hesitancy that it would cancel out the pleasure of the act itself.

But Wade understood this perfectly. On a purely emotional level, he didn't want to rush either. It was a first time of sorts for him as well, after all. He'd taken her rejection of his advances that morning completely in stride, and her inevitable panicked texting as she came to dwell upon it later in the day had only caused him to reiterate his sentiments. He really was a changed man. He really was in it for the long haul.

_'How are Anglo-American relations? I'm hoping no news is good news :)'_

_'Put it this way: If I didn't think Facebook was an intrusive, attention-seeking waste of time, I'd be changing my relationship status right now... and not to 'it's_   
_complicated''_

_':D :D :D :D'_

_'...Or I would but for the fact NO ONE must know about this. Not while Alicia is still the locker room charity case. Capiche?'_

_'Secret's safe with me, girl. But be forewarned: I will be squealing, squeezing you to death and demanding to know every gory detail when we're next alone together :P'_

Yes, much as the final hurdle that stood between Wade, AJ and a relationship had been cleared, they both agreed that a period of intense secrecy was required while Alicia returned to work, hopefully well on her way to a full mental recovery, and the backstage hivemind found a new hate figure. AJ already had enough grief dealing with overzealous kids hurling abuse at her for 'what you did to John Cena' (much of it in language that should never be heard from the lips of a pre-teen); receiving the same treatment from people she actually cared about because of someone she'd actually hurt was more than her conscience could take. In a perverse way the idea somewhat thrilled her. Stolen moments and careful co-ordination all in the name of passion and romance, it would be like an affair with all the guilt and shame replaced with a feeling of moral righteousness.

* * *

_'Just checked the running order. We'll both be done by 9.30. Meet at my room at 10. Knock three times. Conditions of entry: Bring chocolate. And one of those portable air hockey tables they sell in the store across the street. My dominance over you in the field of scaled-down sports will continue! And we can only watch Control if you agree to watch the first Power Rangers movie when we get to Denver. The best relationships are built on compromise xxx'_

AJ had to try and stop herself giggling as she wandered the arena corridors. She felt like a teenager sneaking out on her parents. Not that she ever did such things in her adolescence of course, which probably explained why it still filled her with such childish glee as a 26-year-old. She tried to limit visible traces of her happiness down to a smug grin as she opened the door to the Divas locker room. If anyone asked, she'd just had a relaxing weekend at home. After all, technically she wasn't lying, just being economical with the truth.

She entered the room to find it alive with laughter and lively chatter, and the entirety of WWE's female contingent gathered around one spot in the middle. Something clearly had them very excited. So much so no one even noticed AJ coming through the door.

"Hi guys, what's all the..." AJ began in a louder-than-normal voice as to attract their attention. But the source of their animation soon became obvious. The throng parted to reveal a long-term absentee from their number.

"Alicia!" AJ shrieked, in a tone she instantly realised sounded a lot less pleased and a lot more dismayed than it should have done.

"Hey, AJ!" the willowy Florida native replied, beaming widely. AJ had almost forgotten how Alicia's voice was supposed to sound. The distracted, despondent mumble in which she had uttered what few words she contributed to conversations before her departure had gone, and the effervescent gusto with which she once greeted everyone and everything had returned.

"How, uh... how have you been? What have you been up to?" AJ asked, finding the tone that she hoped was the one she would be using should she not have a million guilty and dishonest thoughts racing around her brain.

"Oh, you know... adding a whole new wing to the Fashion Factory, perfecting the ultimate cookie recipe, going back to Jacksonville Beach, seeing people I've not seen in years, just reconnecting with me. It's been... great," Alicia chirped enthusiastically.

"But, kicking people in the face is me, too. And here's the only place I've found where I can do that without being arrested, so I had to come back."

Alicia broke into her trademark giggle, AJ laughed along a little too loud for a little too long. Suddenly, Alicia's eyes widened and she gasped with realisation.

"What?" AJ asked nervously, the icy grip of paranoia filling her airways.

"You were late, I haven't given you your present!"

Present? God, this was too much. The girl had just returned from a borderline mental breakdown, AJ was merrily carrying on with the man whose rejection caused it and she was buying her a gift? Understand his reasons though she did, at this point in time AJ couldn't help but wish Wade hadn't done this to someone so impossibly nice. Tamina wouldn't have bought everyone presents.

Alicia reached into the bottom of a large plastic gift bag next to her locker and produced a book-shaped present.

"Open it! I saw you reading Volume 1 before I went away. You don't have Volume 2 yet, do you? Sorry if you do,"

AJ peeled back the wrapping to reveal the latest  _All New X-Men_  collection. She'd never been so unhappy to receive such a thoughtful gift in her life. She couldn't have bought such a well-chosen present for Alicia if she'd tried. AJ knew Alicia liked clothes but she couldn't even begin to name her favourite designers. She knew she liked baking but she didn't know her favourite cakes. How could she be so observant? And what had she done to deserve it? Signed a few 'get well soon' cards someone else had bought? Murmured 'tell her I said hi' every time Layla or Rosa mentioned going to visit her?

"No, I don't have it yet. This is lovely, thank you!" she said stunned, giving Alicia a stiff, dutiful hug.

"You've all been so sweet over the past month. I'm so sorry I shut you out, I should've known you'd all be there for me," Alicia smiled.

"Well, I know what I'll be doing while you all go out and paint the town," said AJ with another laugh that stuck in her throat.

'Having the time of my life with the man you love,' her mind added.

AJ found her way to a free locker and put the book inside. Alicia was now deep in conversation with Layla and Naomi at the far end of the room. For the first time since her arrival, AJ locked eyes with Kaitlyn, who gave her a broad grin and a double thumbs up. AJ shook her head and scowled. Kaitlyn furrowed her eyebrows quizzically. AJ mimed 'Outside. Ten minutes,' holding up the corresponding number of fingers. Kaitlyn nodded briskly.

* * *

"Did you see that? Someone up there is punishing me!" AJ raged despairingly, clenching her fists and pounding then down on thin air as she paced along the corridor, Kaitlyn scurrying to keep up in her wake.

"Punishing you for what? You've done nothing," her best friend, replied, trying to put a comforting hand on her shoulder which AJ immediately shrugged off.

"Haven't I?"

"Of course not! Did you see how happy Alicia was? The break's done it's job. She's over him. She's moving on,"

"She's only fine because she has no idea that the girl she probably spent an hour picking out the right comic book for has received more affection from the man she loves in the past three weeks than she did in eighteen frigging months. But rather than come clean about it, I'm happily excepting her gifts and her hugs like everything's dandy."

"April, you're giving in to them. You said Wade had nothing to be ashamed of. That means you certainly don't have anything to be ashamed of. And if Alicia really is over him, when she finds out she'll understand you were only trying to protect her feelings. Hell, she doesn't even need to find out it's been going on so long if you don't want her to. The only people that know about this are you, me, Wade and whoever he's told, which considering his current popularity levels is probably either Drew or no one."

"It's no one. It was his idea to keep things on the down-low in the first place."

"Well, there you go. It's all in our hands. I'm gonna go ahead and presume none of what we said in my room that morning penetrated Aksana's comatose mind!"

Kaitlyn gave a hearty laugh at the end of this sentence, a sentence which she had presumed would lighten the mood. Instead, AJ froze with her mouth hanging open like her whole world was about to fall in.

"Shit! Aksana! Where is she? I didn't see her in the locker room."

"She's not booked, they gave her the night off. Could be back home, could have gone ahead to the next town, I've no idea. Why? You didn't tell her, did you?"

"She overheard. We talked while you were in the shower," AJ still didn't feel like relaying the bizarre nature of said talk. In fact, it was the out-of-character surreality of that conversation that had caused her to all but forget it was even Aksana she had spoken to until now.

"Well, she's not particularly close to Alicia either. She's not here and she's nothing to gain by spilling the beans. I'll talk with her if you're really  
worried, but seriously, just calm down. You're doing nothing wrong."

AJ thought she'd give Kaitlyn some positive feedback for trying her hardest to put her mind at ease and rested her head on the Texan's shoulder. Kaitlyn placed her arms gingerly around AJ's back, half expecting her to rear up and launch off into another pacing rant at any second. But she stayed put as her tension slowly released.

"Why does it have to be so complicated? Even the supposed happiest moments of my life seem to come with a billion layers of bullshit that just turn them into one big clusterfuck of every conceivable emotion," she lamented.

"Just think about tonight. There'll be no Alicia, no me and my lame-ass attempts to cheer you up. It'll just be you and him. And that's all you need."

* * *

The clocks struck ten in Pittsburgh. At the Consol Energy Center, Raw entered its final hour. At the Hilton, Wade arrived at the door to AJ's hotel room, giant galaxy bar and air hockey table in hand as requested. Across the river, Alicia Fox waited underneath the Liberty Bridge. Many would say it wasn't the place for a young woman to be out alone after dark. But she needed to ensure this meeting was conducted in absolute privacy. She just hoped her anonymous informer was true to his or her word.

At the sound of the footsteps she wheeled around. A hooded, feminine figure dressed entirely in black drew near her. Alicia lowered her own hood in anticipation, and when the figure followed suit she was shocked to discover the identity of the face underneath.

"You? No offence, but  _no way_  was it you that sent those texts. There were words in there that  _I_  don't know the meaning of!" Alicia began with wonderment.

"Let's just say you're not the only one putting on a front," Aksana replied curtly.

"So, you're absolutely certain you've got it right?" Alicia queried apprehensively.

"You might say I was the architect of their union," mused Aksana with a self-satisfied smile.

"What?" Alicia couldn't believe these words were coming from the mouth of a woman primarily known for the phrase 'let me entertainment you.' Although in this light she couldn't entirely rule out it actually being Damien Sandow in drag.

"That morning in San Jose, I was there when AJ spoke to Kaitlyn about it. I told her to follow her heart,"

"And you're sure she listened to you?"

"Everyone listens to Aksana. I have a certain... way with these things. It's both a blessing and a curse. I've seen so many people determined to forge a path of love through a forest of doubt and uncertainty. And little AJ, she was among the most determined. A love like that doesn't just burn out, it needs to be extinguished... forcibly."

Alicia didn't doubt that for a moment. There was something unerringly assured in the way this hitherto-unseen side of Aksana conducted herself, as if she somehow floated above it all, like she had a never-ending wealth of prescience, a small portion of which she deigned to impart to whomever she saw fit.

"So how would I go about 'extinguishing' it?" Alicia asked, with purpose, certain Aksana's reply would give her the foundations to put a plan into action.

"Two sayings spring to mind..." she began. As if this conversation wasn't bizarre enough she'd barely looked Alicia in the eye at any point during it's course, staring blankly ahead along the dark, deserted street as if it was somehow informing her thinking.

"The first: the concept of a spanner in the works. There's a reason they say 'spanner' and not, say, 'sledgehammer'. Sabotage must be subtle for it to be truly effective, a gradual collapse rather than a demolition, you see? The second: kindness kills. You're in a privileged position, Alicia. Everyone is on your side, even those who you seek to undermine. Use it to your advantage, play the fool. Your reputation proceeds you, you're the least likely suspect in just about any wrongdoing, keep it that way."

Alicia stared at the pavement in contemplation. Infuriatingly indirect though her advice was, she was fairly sure she followed Aksana's logic. No one would suspected sweet, chipper Alicia Fox. She was the victim, not the aggressor. People couldn't do enough to keep on her good side, and from her guilt-ridden reaction to their exchange earlier in the day, Alicia knew she could count AJ in that number.

It looked to all as if she'd emerged out the whole Wade ordeal non-the-worse; the same positive, perky, polite, personable girl she always was. No one knew how she'd snapped inside, how one man's cruel manipulation of her emotions had gradually steamrollered any optimism and goodwill she had for the world. There was only one thing on her mind now, making Wade Barrett pay for tearing her heart asunder, for making a mockery of her and all she knew life to be. And he expected he could just move on, leave her mentally mutilated while he gave the love that should have been hers to someone else. To AJ.

Though they appeared to be wildly different people on the surface, Alicia saw alot of her old self in that girl. Sunny, playful, hopeful... everything she no longer had the faith in life to be after what Wade had done to her. Why should AJ be allowed to continue to dream while her own dreams lay in pieces blowing forlornly round her mind like tumbleweeds? What had AJ done do deserve Wade's love that she hadn't? She'd given so much for so long and this woman expected to just walk in, steal his heart in a matter of weeks and live happily ever after. Oh no. She'd make AJ feel the way she felt. And in doing so destroy Wade's dreams as well. There was no justice in their happiness. None at all.

"I know what to do now, but I'm going to need your..." Alicia began, but looked up to find she was once again alone, not a sound but the traffic rumbling above her head, not a soul in sight. It was as if Aksana was never there.

 


	8. Birthday

Wade leaned his forearms on the wooden rails of the lawn terrace, blinking in the spring morning sun. In the best way possible, he didn't recognise his mind any more. For so long previously there had only been two constants; a determination to succeed in his career and an intense guilt over what his stunted emotional maturity had done to Alicia. Now the latter became fainter every day, and in its place thoughts of the woman whose words and actions had finally allowed him to make peace with himself.

In many ways she was the kind of girl he imagined his first love to be back in his early adolescence, before more primal urges and more cynical thought processes took root. How she blushed, giggled and absent-mindedly played with that luxurious mane of mahogany hair every time they talked. How she always tried to find the good in everything and everyone, the bright and the fun side to every situation, and constantly fretted about offending or alienating others. She didn't have a selfish or vindictive bone in her, but she knew how to stand up for herself when on the receiving end of such behaviour. Her contented sighs when he held her in his arms and her excited gasps and tremors that when his hands traversed her elegant little body filled him with desire and instinctively boosted his male ego. He used to scoff when they said love was a many-splendored thing. Turned out they were right after all.

"Hey, Barrett!" the somewhat aggressive exclamation of a female voice caused Wade to wheel around and look in the direction of the hotel. Kaitlyn strode impassively across the terrace toward him, smirking seemingly in response to the baffled expression on his face.

"This better be good, love, I'm a man who enjoys his aimless staring into space of a morning," he said dryly.

"Is April looking for me?"

"No. I am. We need to talk," the feisty Texan replied, fixing him with a steely glare.

"Well, I suppose it is about time we exchanged pleasantries," he mused.

"After all, what was it the Spice Girls said?"

Kaitlyn gave him a blank look.

"Don't tell me you're too young for that reference," Wade self-consciously added.

"No, I get it. It just... isn't all that funny."

"You're very frank, aren't you?"

"I am indeed, Wade, and it's just as well, because there's a few things I need to lay down."

"Ah, finally! 32 years and at last, my first 'break her heart and I'll break you legs' ultimatum."

"Well maybe if you'd, y'know, actually dated a few more girls rather than indiscriminately screwing it might have happened more often."

"Oho! My, we're really not pulling any punches, are we?" Wade laughed raising his hands defensively, partly admiring her gall and partly concerned where she might be headed with this potential character assassination.

"Look..." Kaitlyn began, taking a deep breath.

"The fact is, when April first started talking about you, to say I had my reservations was an understatement. I regarded you as a surly, smarmy, self-serving dickhead."

Wade prepared to defend his case, but Kaitlyn raised her right hand to shut him up and ploughed ahead.

"However, you've made her happier than I've seen her for a very long time. And as long as you continue to do that, you're alright by me. April doesn't fall like this for just anyone, so you must have something about you."

"Christ, you'll have me blushing in a minute," Wade chortled.

"But if you dare pull what Trent pulled, or anything else that hurts her like that, I'll finish you like I finished him and I think you know what that means. I  _do not_  want to have to support her through that again. Ignoring her for weeks before finally growing the balls to ask her out was bad enough. That girl worships you, and if you have any doubts, any at all, that you feel the same way, please, walk away now before you have another Alicia on your hands."

Wade nodded solemnly. As wholly unnecessary as all this was, it didn't anger him. If anything he was heartened to know he wasn't the only one to whom AJ's security and peace of mind were of primary importance. And if he was to avoid being watched with hawk-eyed suspicion by her best friend for the foreseeable future, he'd need to give an earnest and heartfelt response.

"Listen, Kaitlyn, I appreciate you looking out for her, but I'm no Trent, I'm not even the bloke I was to Alicia. April's changed me, she's turned me into a right soft twat. I love her and a I wouldn't dream of leaving or hurting her, believe me."

"Glad to hear it. I trust you've got big plans for tomorrow?" Kaitlyn asked. Wade smiled to himself. Considering romantic gestures were hardly his strong suit, he couldn't help but glow with pride at what he'd put together for AJ's birthday.

"I really have surpassed myself, I must say. I'll give her a great day, you give her a great night, deal?"

"Deal," Kaitlyn said, finally allowing herself a smile as they shook hands.

"Oh, and one more thing," she added, maintaining her grip on him.

"Please don't tell her we had this conversation. She'd kill me."

"OK, but I'm definitely going to repeat my little spiel from this chat to her at some point."

"Yeah you do that, I'm sure she'll be really charmed to know she's made you a 'soft twat'. See you around."

* * *

AJ groaned as she became aware of the shrill blaring of music through tiny mobile phone speakers that was awakening her from her from the deepest of slumbers. She hadn't set an alarm. She'd told Wade to wake her at 9, giving her just enough time to shower, apply a rudimentary amount of make-up and head off to the radio station where she and Dolph were scheduled for an interview. Instead, on her birthday of all days, her phone was mysteriously shocking her into life an hour early. She rolled over ready to aim a groggy, accusatory tirade at her boyfriend, only to find she was alone in bed. So he'd set her an alarm and 'buggered off', as he would say? Terrific.

As all her senses slowly became fully operational, she became aware of a sweet floral scent emanating from the other end of the room. She finally silenced her phone and padded slowly across to the sofa. On the coffee table lay a boquet of red roses and blue violets, a rectangular wrapped present and a note. She gasped in surprise and grinned merrily to herself. Given how averse Wade was to making a song and dance of such things, she'd expected little more than a card and a box of chocolates from the hotel shop. Not that she would have minded that, he had plenty of other ways of showing her he cared.

She sat down and tore the paper open to reveal a picture frame. Behind the glass was a scrappy piece of note paper, with a small printed grid inside which numbers had been scrawled. AJ squeaked in realisation. It was the scorecard from their miniature golf game in San Jose. Underneath it was a silver-lined black jewellery case. Upon sliding the lid off, her eyes widened. On the cushion lay a bracelet of what appeared to be solid gold. She lifted it and held it to the light to inspect the fine engraving encircling its outside. It consisted solely of three dates: August 10th 1980, March 19th 1987 and February 3rd 2013. The first two were obvious, Wade's date of birth and her own, and the third, she came to notice, matched the one in Wade's handwriting scrawled in the top right corner of the scorecard.

She then removed the note from its tiny envelope and began to read:

_April,_

_Yes, it's real gold. I should bloody well think so too considering what I paid for it. Wear it every day, and then neither of us have any excuse for forgetting our_   _anniversary. That morning was the start of something truly wonderful, and I'm terribly sorry once again for taking three fucking weeks to realise that. And so, this_   _morning is about invoking the spirit of San Jose (I was even going to have your phone play you Dionne Warwick to wake you up, but your internet was down). Only_   _this time, I won't be backing off or walking away. Not now or ever._

_Before you call me cliche for going for roses and violets, I should explain the genius of my selection. A red rose is the symbol of my native Lancashire, and_   _a blue violet, so Wikipedia tells me, is the state flower of New Jersey. Then again, Wikipedia also once said I was an avid collector of Benny Hill memorabilia so_   _apologies if I'm wrong on that one. I find it very appropriate, as roses are a lot bigger than violets. There are probably other, more poetic comparisons to be made,_   _but I've exhausted all my soppiness already._

_Happy birthday, poppet. All my love,_

_Wade xxxx_

With nigh-on perfect timing, there was a knock at the door. AJ bounded over and swung it open to reveal Wade laden with a milkshake in each hand and a plastic bag around his wrist. AJ smiled sweetly at him and shook her head disbelievingly.

"Just... I have no words. Hurry up and put that stuff down or those milkshakes are going flying."

"So I'm pretty good at this 'being romantic' lark then?"

"Milkshakes... down...  _now_ "

"Alright, alright," Wade hurried over to the coffee table and deposited his purchases. He spun around to be greeted by an airborne AJ leaping straight at him, knocking him clean off his feet in spite of her near-150-pound weight disadvantage and back-first onto the sofa and covering his face in kisses with reckless abandon.

"You realise you've set a dangerous precedent though," she said, gripping his shirt at the shoulders and arching her back, with her torso hovering over his and her knees resting on his thighs.

"Well, the ball's in your court first, sweetheart. You've got six months to work out how to top this," he smirked, bringing his hands to her ribs. She raised her eyebrows thoughtfully.

"Not if you don't want to though, I'd be happy with a kiss and a bacon sandwich," he added.

"I hope 'bacon sandwich' isn't a euphemism," said AJ with a mischievous grin.

"Or maybe I hope it is."

She slid her arms around his neck, bringing her lips back to his and lowered her body down against him, her kiss as surprisingly forceful and passionate as ever, her tongue intensely spinning rings around his while he ran his hands along her sides down to her hips, realising to his increasingly evident pleasure that she was wearing nothing under her oversized t-shirt-turned-nightdress. He proceeded down to her backside and squeezed the rounded flesh indulgently, to which she gave a surprised squeal. She removed her lips from his and sat back on his lap, her legs straddling him.

"Too far?" he asked awkwardly.

"Of course not!" she chuckled and ruffled his hair almost pityingly.

"If you can't do that to your girlfriend who can you do it to?"

There followed a brief, moderately awkward silence as Wade rued his contrition, feeling like he was seventeen again. He wasn't used to having to pace himself in this department, and evidently he'd gone too far in the opposite direction.

"Listen..." AJ began in a husky whisper, laying along him on her front with her chin cushioned on her hands against his chest.

"We've done the slow and steady thing now. I know you're of noble intent and... I want tonight to be the night. Not now, I don't want to rush it and the innocence of milkshakes would be ruined forever. But tonight, when I get back from wherever the hell Kaitlyn's planning to drag me to, there's only one way I want my birthday to end."

"Are you sure?"

She placed her arms either side of him, allowing her to bring her face to his, leaning her forehead against him and giving him a hungry, wild-eyed look the like of which he'd never seen from her before and that answered his query in the most alluring way possible.

"Wade, I love you, I trust you, I  _want_  you. Do you want me?"

This was possibly the most easily-answerable question Wade Barrett had ever been posed in his entire life.

"You have no idea how badly," he breathed closing his eyes and meeting her lips with a tender, decadent kiss. How he was to concentrate on the rest of the day now he did not know.

AJ retreated from his mouth again and he opened his eyes to find her beaming at him with starry-eyed glee and innocence.

"Good," she chirped.

"Now let's eat pancakes!"

And with that she rolled onto the floor, hurriedly tearing open the bag with giddy fervour, childlike to the point that she seemed utterly incapable of the lustful, seductive behaviour she had just been tantalising him with. Wade let out a disbelieving but adoring sigh. She was something alright.

Tonight was going to be one hell of a night.

* * *

Six doors down the hall, Alicia Fox shot herself a wicked, sneering smile in the mirror. She'd always considered herself a good actress but her ability to live her entire life as an elaborate charade as she did now surprised even her.

_'It's so good to have the old Alicia back!'_

_'Glad to see you smiling again.'_

_'I told you you'd get over it.'_

Those deluded fools that she called friends but now found herself feeling increasingly distant and superior from by the day. Aksana was right, after what she'd been through she was untouchable in their eyes, a shining example of turning the other cheek and letting sleeping dogs lie. If only they knew that revenge was now her raison d'etre.

And then there was AJ. Pathetic, simpering, hopeless AJ. Alicia couldn't believe she herself once thought the way that timid little waif did. Seeing the guilt pile up in that girl's eyes was the only thing that kept Alicia going now. Watching her squirm and sweat with every kind gesture and complement she paid her, knowing that AJ would never dare push her away for fear of inflicting the pain she thought she was saving Alicia by keeping her relationship with Wade under wraps. For fear of derailing her fragile recovery. And the bare-faced lies, that she still wasn't over Trent, that she wasn't looking to be involved with anyone. She was just as much of a snivelling, conniving coward as Wade himself.

And AJ expected to just celebrate her birthday in peace, go home and cuddle up to her precious Wadey while Alicia went back to an empty bed, took her pills and hoped they'd buy her six hours in the land where all hope wasn't lost, where life still made sense and all really was fair in love. That was not going to happen. If AJ thought she felt guilty now, it had only just begun.

Tonight was going to be one hell of a night.

 


	9. Persecution

"Get to the fucking byline, Holmes, you're supposed to be a bloody winger!" Wade bellowed at the laptop as he guided his virtual Preston North End side through another game on Football Manager 2013, his one concession to video gaming prior to dating AJ.

"What was that?" his girlfriend called from the bathroom.

"Nothing, sweetheart, just yelling at a predetermined programme of code representing a football match again. Sorry, I'm incurable!"

"You're apologising to  _me_  for taking a video game too seriously?"

"Fair point! Are you nearly done, anyway? I thought you said 8?"

"Yep, just applying a few finishing touches."

Wade rolled his eyes. He wasn't used to her taking longer in front of the mirror than him. Not that there was anything wrong with it, he just wanted as much time with her as possible before she was whisked away for her birthday night out. And considering what he had been promised upon her return, he hoped it wouldn't be a long one. For the first time in fifteen years he was actually nervous at the prospect of sex, as if his wealth of experience counted for nothing. She seemed so... innocent, and the artless, unscrupulous lover he'd become just didn't fit with the courteous, attentive, gentlemanly, reformed man he was trying to be around her. He was scared he didn't really know how to make love rather than simply, as he would say, shagging. He supposed he must have done something of the sort with Alicia in the beginning, but all positive memories of that relationship had been tainted by association with what happened next. He only hoped that, like everything else about falling in love he'd learnt in the last month, it would all come naturally.

The bathroom door finally opened, Wade inhaled deeply in anticipation, knowing she would be emerging somehow even more glorious than before she went in. It would be a good ten seconds before he remembered to exhale. Reclining gently on the door frame was the most beautiful apparition he had ever set eyes on. Her black dress, latticed at its high hem and neckline, framed her petite, athletic figure perfectly, her teased and toussled brown mane hung partially over her shoulders and partially down her back. Those mesmerising dark chocolate eyes of hers gazed at him, perfectly framed by her immaculate Latin complexion, and her glossy pink lips extended outwards in a slight pout. Upon sighting his slack-jawed expression, she grinned victoriously to herself.

"Well?" she questioned, arching her eyebrows.

"You look... I just... I mean you always... But this..." Wade spluttered, reminding himself uncomfortably of Hugh Grant or some other stereotypical bumbling English fop that he despised for misrepresenting his country's culture to the world. She gave an appreciative giggle, she was having a lot of fun at seeing him lost for words for a change, her confidence skyrocketing knowing her mere appearance was the cause of his disarray.

She sashayed over to him and threw her arms around his neck, looking up at him admiringly with her top lip curled under her bottom one. He was handsome in the most rugged way possible. His eyes, that ensnaring cocktail of green, grey and brown. His disjointed nose, that he hated so much, was probably her favourite feature of his, but as soon as the word 'characterful' left her lips he became convinced she was just being nice. In public he wore his cocksure smirk like a mask that allowed him to greet everything with an all-pervading air of wry aloofness, only when with her did that endlessly endearing, boyish grin get a regular airing (and contrary to stereotype, his teeth were perfect). That smile had a way of piercing through her defences at any given time regardless of her mood or the situation, and filling her with a litany of blush-worthy thoughts. She felt it a testament to her self-control and principles that she had been able to wait this long before acting upon these urges, which were stronger, more graphic and more persistent than any in her life previously.

She gave him the briefest of pecks on the lips, though she would dearly have loved to have done more had she not spent the last half an hour getting her make-up just right. Instead she settled for some rather blatant fondling of his chest and abdomen. She looked up to find him gazing down at her with an appreciative yet surprised smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"We're going to have  _a lot_  of fun later, aren't we?" AJ cooed.

"We certainly are," Wade beamed, finally regaining his composure and placing his hands at her waist.

"Don't let them keep you too long, or coerce you into drinking anything fluorescent."

"From what I heard, you like 'em drunk and disorderly," teased AJ.

"You must be confusing me with Stuart Bennett, we do look rather alike. Wade Barrett much prefers sober, spunky little spitfires."

AJ gave a derisive snort and rolled her eyes, in response to which Wade gave her a playful poke between the hips and ribs.

"Oi! I'm still learning how to be cute, forgive me if I overdo it from time to time," he admonished jokingly.

"Something to bare in mind when it comes to me, Wadey..." AJ began.

"If I'm ripping on something, I'm probably enjoying every minute of it. It's when I start smiling politely that you need to worry."

"I hope that rule doesn't extend to the bedroom," he replied warily.

"Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't you? Ta-ra, chuck!"

She quickly grabbed her handbag from the coffee table and headed out the door, leaving Wade grinning admiringly at her perfect execution of the Lancashire colloquialisms he had taught her the previous day, not to mention how hilarious they sounded in an American accent. He could see where she was coming from with all that now.

* * *

11.30pm in downtown St Louis, and AJ's birthday evening out was every bit as comfortably middling as she had expected it to be. There was a good turn out, she'd resisted all efforts to get her paralytic (all of her party of around 20 had plans to that end it seemed) and everyone was enjoying themselves. She looked down at the dancefloor from their table on the upper deck. Kofi seemed to be regrettably informing a pretty young thing that had taken a shine to him that he was married, Kaitlyn was humouring Zack in a dance, but the look on his face said he hoped it was just the beginning, Rosa was commandeering a shots session at the bar, the usual. As she continued to survey the scene she realised someone was notably absent. She scanned back and forth, following the pattern of the strobe lights as they illuminated each section of the room in turn. Definitely not there.

"Anyone seen Alicia?" she asked, turning back to the table. As everyone slowly reached the level of inebriation they personally required to hit the dancefloor, AJ's company upstairs had dwindled to the foursome of John Cena, Daniel Bryan, Brie and Nikki Bella, leaving AJ a would-be fifth wheel. If anything made her wish she had her own man here to keep her company, this was it. John and Bryan were their usual gentlemanly selves, of course, still continuing to make small talk and at no point making her feel unwelcome, but nonetheless she'd hoped at least one more person without a plus-one would have resisted the urge to cut a rug.

"Nope. Not for a while, actually," John replied, furrowing his brow.

"She's not with Rosa?" Nikki asked.

"Doesn't look like it, I've been watching them for five minutes."

"What's the problem? You don't think she's... y'know, uh, relapsing? Would you say relapsing? I'm not sure too sure on the vernacular," there John went trying to turn her concern into an irreverent discussion. It was his way of putting her at ease but in this situation it did little of the sort.

"She'll be fine," Daniel sighed resignedly. There was a reason she directed the question more at John and Nikki than him and Brie. Bryan's endlessly relaxed demeanour made him tremendously easy to get along with but had an unfortunate tendency to grate in circumstances such as these.

"I'm going to find her," AJ announced and sauntered away down the stairs without a second look at her colleagues.

_'Where did u go? Everything ok? xx'_

_'Fine. Just got a missed call from mom. Says its nothing urgent. Gone outside to call her back. Save a shot for me! xx'_

That should hopefully deter Rosa, for the time being at least. But AJ was bound to be worried by now.

"Alicia! There you are!" Right on cue. That shrill, naive, girlish voice. So very predictable, so very pathetic. It was showtime.

"Oh... hey AJ. Don't mind me, I'm..." she took a theatrically deep breath.

"...I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"Just... go back in and enjoy your birthday, honey. I'll be OK." Quick sniffle, disillusioned sigh. And bingo, there were the arms around her. Just too easy.

"Alicia, you can talk to me. I won't enjoy my birthday if you're out here feeling sorry for yourself."

_'It's easy to care about others when you're own life's so fucking perfect,'_  Alicia thought. Anyway, breakdown in T-minus three, two, one...

"Seriously, Alicia,  _please_  tell me what's going on. Do you want me to get Rosa and the others?" Hook, line and sinker once again.

"No! It's bad enough you've seen me like this!" Alicia lamented between the sobs.

"Well I'm not leaving you, I'm sure you'll feel better if you tell me what's up."

Alicia turned and aimed her best 'lovesick' at AJ.

"It's... it's Wade, isn't it?" AJ groaned. It was too much to hope for anything else. She'd been waiting for this moment. With how far off the deep end Alicia had gone, a clean break after just a month was too good to be true, and the added ingredient of alcohol and being surrounded by everyone enjoying themselves, many with their significant others, was the perfect scenario for, as John put it, a relapse.

"I still think about him every day. I... I didn't try everything. I was so fixated on doing my own thing, being my own person. If only I'd compromised more maybe... maybe it could have worked." AJ's face was an absolute picture right now. It was taking all Alicia's thespian prowess not to break out into the broadest of grins.

"I'm gonna call him, I can't go on like this any more. Just one more chance. And if he says no that's it. I need to know I've tried everything."

Alicia picked up her phone, out of the corner of her eye she saw AJ flail in panic.

_'Squirm, bitch, squirm!'_

"No, Alicia! I... I don't think that's such a good idea. You're not in the right frame of mind. I'll call you a taxi and get you home, if no one will go with you, I will. I only agreed to this night out to please the others anyway."

"It's the only thing that'll make me feel better, AJ!" she snapped tearfully.

"You're not going to get the answer you want, I can guarantee that. Don't put yourself through it again."

"Why? How do you know? There's no one else is there?"

"...No."

That moment's hesitation, that window, little miss goody two-shoes couldn't lie to save her life. She flared up and fixed her with a look of horrific realisation that made sure AJ knew the game was up and had already begun to wish for the ground to swallow her whole before Alicia even opened her mouth.

"There  _is_ , isn't there? Who?"

_'Sorry, Wade. So very sorry,'_  AJ mouthed. She couldn't keep this up any longer. It just wasn't fair on the poor girl. Whatever came next came. Anyway, her heart was in the right place. They were doing nothing wrong. Of that she was certain now.

"It's... it's me. Wade and I are... together. It's only been a month, and only serious for a few weeks. We were going to tell you, I swear. We just wanted to see how you were baring up first..."

"You... you  _lied_  to me," Alicia breathed, making sure to sound well and truly hurt and betrayed but not the slightest bit angry or aggressive. The victim through and through.

"It's not like that, I knew you might still have these feelings, I just didn't want to send you back to that place..."

"Wade...  _loves_  you?" pure heartbreak in her trembling tone. She wanted to high-five herself for how she nailed that one.

"He does, yes... I love him too," the tears began to swell in AJ's eyes. Any feeling of absolution she was hoping to get from coming clean seemed a million miles off.

The door to the smoking area opened. Here came the cavalry. Alicia even allowed herself a triumphant smirk while AJ turned around and noticed them.

"You two! What's been keeping you? We can't have a birthday party without the birthday girl," Rosa slurred gaily.

"Got your shot right here, Foxy!" Natalya smiled, handing Alicia the small orange plastic cup, only for Alicia to throw it to the ground in despair and double over in hysterics once again. Soon an army of sympathisers had gathered around her.

"Oh, sweetie! What is it?" Rosa questioned softly, rubbing Alicia's shoulder soothingly with her thumb.

" _Her_ " Alicia started with venom, extending her index finger in the direction of AJ who stood paralysed opposite.

"...and Wade. For a month. Behind my back."

" _What?_ " Rosa asked bitingly, a look of pure thunder crossing her face as she stepped from Alicia's side and squared up to AJ.

"You're fucking kidding, right?" Natalya added as several others chimed in with their disbelief, Zack managing a well-timed 'are you serious?'

"It's true. But guys, listen, I..."

"Do you know..." Rosa hissed through gritted teeth.

"...how many days I spent talking this poor girl from doing something awful to herself because of that... that... He broke her heart, damn near ruined her life, and you're  _fucking_  him? Playing all nice and sympathetic with Alicia then going home and fucking the man that would rather rip her to shreds than say one honest sentence. I bet you both have a good laugh at her, don't you? At us. Maybe you were the reason he did what he did in the first place."

"No, Rosa, it's not like that, I... we..."

"Shut up!" Rosa grabbed AJ by the scruff of her neck, tearing the fine fabric of her dress at the collar. No one seemed in too great a rush to restrain her.

"And to think I came here tonight for  _you_. Bought you a drink, thought 'hey, AJ's a really nice girl, I should get to know her better.' Well, I know plenty enough about you now. I know you're a scheming, skanky, slimy little bitch!" with each insult, Rosa had prodded AJ on the bare skin where her dress had torn away from.

At the end of her tirade she leapt at her in the way only a drunken person could, knocking her clumsily to the floor, pulling manically at her hair, aiming sloppy slaps across her face and tearing more from the neckline of the dress, wailing banshee-like the whole time. Still no one came to her aid. AJ thought she heard Natalya shout 'Leave her, she deserves it!', presumably to Kaitlyn. Finally, having been implored to 'do something for God's sakes!' by Brie, Daniel lifted Rosa away and back inside kicking and screaming, her threats barely intelligible.

AJ found her feet and a wall of disgruntled faces eyeing her, all trying at once to tell her exactly what they thought. Some took Rosa's 'backstabbing bitch' stance, others, John among them not surprisingly, took the more sympathetic yet maddeningly patronising line of 'you don't know what you're doing. That guy's bad news. Don't be the next Alicia' that Kaitlyn had briefly lectured her with before AJ had set her straight. Kaitlyn. At last she fought her way through the congregation, threw an arm around AJ and rounded on them with a blood-curdling shriek.

"HOW ABOUT YOU ALL LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE?!"

Amazingly it worked. Slowly they shuffled away, many getting in their last insults or cautionary words as they passed her, some settling for a dirty look. Alicia remained head bowed forlornly, supported at her arms by Natalya and Layla.

As they led her inside, Alicia was able to glance over her shoulder and get one last look at AJ. That immaculate hair now tossed wildly round and about, that gorgeous dress tattered beyond repair, her perfect make-up smudged around her face where she bled from a small cut under her eye. The huge smile she'd worn when she showed up at the arena hours earlier, no doubt having had a dreamy morning in with Wade, was long gone. In its place sat an expression of distraught, anguished guilt, regret and hopelessness. And they'd all danced to her tune. Every last one of them. There was no way that limp-wristed, self-conscious weathervane of a woman would stick with Wade now, no way she would shoulder all the hate heading her way. She'd be forced to surrender the man she loved just like Alicia was. Either that or lose the career she'd worked most of her life for. Whatever happened, AJ would feel her pain.

Mission accomplished.

 


	10. Consummation

Wade paced pensively back and forth, feeling majorly constricted by the four walls of the hotel room, occasionally smacking the palm of his hand into random surfaces in vain frustration. The phone call he received twenty minutes ago had transformed his mood from quiet excitement and eagerness to rage, concern and ceaseless impatience. All the wicked and wonderful things he was imagining doing upon AJ's return had left his mind as soon as he heard her voice on the other end of the line; distraught, despondent and desperate. Now he just wanted to hold her.

At first he could only blame himself, question the wisdom of letting her into his life in the first place. What had he inflicted upon her by dragging her into this whole Alicia fiasco? He'd saddled her with a mountain of guilty and treacherous feelings over a crime she was not at all a partner in. But without him she would be miserable too, and him without her. They needed each other. Then his anger turned on  _them_ , AJ's supposed friends whose scorn and inability to understand the delicate predicament she was in had ruined her birthday and was sure to place her a comfortable second behind him in the list of locker room pariahs. He wanted to find out exactly who said and did what to her and then throttle every last one of them.

Then he remembered the last time he let his anger over her mistreatment get the better of him, the only other time he'd heard her sound anywhere near this upset. Not long after he'd opened up to her about Alicia, she'd given him the full story about her and the man then known as Trent Barreta, of his repeated infidelity, his betrayal of the love and trust she evidently had in him. To a certain extent he could see the hypocrisy of he, Wade Barrett, descending into livid moral outrage upon hearing of a man deceiving someone who adored him, but he would have never dreamed of being unfaithful to Alicia, there was absolutely no way he could claim that as a white lie. At that moment he'd wanted to hunt down Trent, wherever he was now, and inflict some kind of physical retribution for the mental anguish he'd caused AJ, at the very least leave him an abusive voicemail. It was just how he'd always done things. Up until that point he had not been forced to stop and consider how at odds his black-eye-for-an-eye philosophy was with who he was trying to be now, and more importantly how at odds it was with AJ.

Seeing him fly off the handle, body pulsating with frustration, voice booming out foul-mouthed threats to this man he had barely even spoken to, only served to make her more upset. The look in her eyes was burned into his brain just as deeply as the look in Alicia's the day he finally came clean with her. AJ had looked frightened of him. Usually the knowledge that someone feared him gave him a primal rush, but it was the feeling he least wanted to inspire in the woman he loved, and he knew then that no matter how furious it made him to see her good nature abused, he needed to reign in his rage at all costs. He wouldn't be able to live with the prospect of her hiding her troubles from him for fear of sparking his ire, or of her feeling unable to look to him for comfort in such a situation.

Suddenly the sound of whispered voices the other side of the room door made finally come to a halt.

"You're sure you'll be OK, dear? Text me in an hour to let me know everything's fine else I won't sleep."

Kaitlyn. God bless that girl, Wade thought. At least there was one other person in the company whose unconditional support AJ could rely on.

"Goodnight, then. They'll pull their heads out of their asses eventually, don't you worry. They're good people really, and they'll soon realise that you and Wade are as well."

"I hope you're right. Thanks so much, Kaity. I don't know what I'd..."

"Hey, I won't hear any of that. It's what I'm here for. Now go cuddle up to that big, bad, British boyfriend of yours and remember you've still got plenty to be happy for."

Wade couldn't have said it better himself. The door slowly creaked open, he stood at the end of the hallway to make sure he was the first thing AJ saw. As soon as he saw the state she was in his chest began to ache profusely. All the care and effort that she'd put into her appearance laid to waste by a combination of crying and Rosa's handiwork. Her expression seemed calm in the wake of Kaitlyn's reassurance as she crossed the threshold, but as soon as she looked at him her lip began to tremble and her shoulders soon followed. When her eyes met his it all but broke his heart. The questions they seemed to be silently asking him. 'Why is this happening to me? Why can't things be easy?' This was the last thing she deserved.

It was like that day in the locker room in Cleveland all over again, he pulled her toward his middle with his arms behind her back, her head found its favoured spot under the right hand side of his collarbone where she buried her face, she grabbed fistsfuls of his shirt to steady herself as she let loose a first, agonised sob. Then another, then another. Each one caused the aching in Wade's chest to intensify. It was his least favourite noise in the world and he'd give anything to make it stop. He felt so inadequate being able to offer nothing more effective then the tried and tested routine of rocking her slowly back and forth, maintaining a tight, protective grip around her and making gentle hushing noises.

To his relief, after a minute or two it seemed to have an effect, her laden cries faded to light whimpers and her heart rate and breathing returned to normal. He lifted her in a seated position and sat down on the sofa with her in his lap. She nuzzled into his neck with an arm draped around over each shoulder. He supported her back with his left hand and began stroking her hair with his right as he spoke to her for the first time.

"You haven't let me down," he said gently, addressing her concern from the phone call. It was so like her to find a way to blame herself.

"This was going to happen eventually, we should have been straight up from the start, but that's not your fault. I thought I'd never forgive myself for what I did to Alicia, I thought I'd never be able to get it right. But you taught me how.  _You_. So please, don't go doubting you're doing the right thing now, it's because of you that we've got each other. It's how it's supposed to be, poppet."

"We'll get through this together. I'm not going anywhere if you're not, and if they keep trying to hurt you, they'll have me to answer to. And Kaitlyn. Most people would give their right arm and left leg to have a friend like her. And if they've anything about them, they'll see in time how bloody childish and hiveminded they really are. And if they don't, fuck 'em!"

She removed herself from his neck and chuckled at his bluntness. He beamed encouragingly at her and was delighted when her expression lifted to match his. Never had he been happier to see that smile than right now.

"Fuck 'em!" she repeated with conviction.

He leant in to kiss her but she shifted her head backwards and rubbed at her cheek, then frustratedly examined her mascara-stained fingers.

"I must look a state," she sighed.

"I wouldn't say so," he replied with a shake of the head.

"Apparently 'ruined glamour' is quite a popular look these days. Stay there, I'll help you get cleaned up."

"It's alright, I can..." she began to protest, but he'd already effortlessly lifted her from his knee and marched into the bathroom. He emerged with her packet of make-up wipes, eyeing them like they were some form of alien technology, which caused her to emit another chuckle.

"It's these things, right? I just rub these over your face?"

"You must have worn make-up before, you're a movie star."

"Yeah, but I didn't pay any attention to how they got it off. It itched like hell, that's all I remember. How do you put up with that every day?"

"Just one of many burdens placed upon us by the patriarchy," she teased.

"Well then allow me to relieve you of your burden."

Wade knelt in front of her and began dabbing wildly at her face, causing her to twitch and giggle as he tickled her cheeks.

"Hold still!"

"I'm trying!"

Eventually he was satisfied with his efforts and leant back to get a good look at her.

"You know what? Perhaps we shouldn't be too harsh on Rosa," he smirked.

"If I looked like her and I saw a girl like you, I'd want to scratch your eyes out as well."

She fluttered her lashes at him appreciatively, wrinkled her nose and scrunched her shoulders together.

"God, you're so beautiful," he breathed almost instinctively.

"You're not so bad yourself," AJ smiled, clasping her hands either side of her face. It was as if all the anguish of the past hour and a half had never happened, there was just the two of them and he was driving her to distraction as always. If things had gone to plan she knew what she and Wade would be doing right now, and good lord did she still want to.

She remembered how adorably taken aback he'd been by her directness this morning, the disbelieving pleasure with which he'd greeted her seduction. She thought about how the sight of her in her dress earlier in the evening had left him drooling. Imbued with the confidence of her power over him, she got to her feet, slid the zip undone on the back of the garment and let it fall from her shoulders. Still on his knees before her, he looked fit to burst. His eyes widened with savour, he breathed heavily through his gaping mouth, his lips twitched as he tried to find the words, but he couldn't. She'd never felt more attractive in her life.

"Aren't you going to get up?" she drawled almost tauntingly.

He nodded like a chastised child and joined her on his feet. Even towering over her as he now did, he seemed to be in her shadow as she advanced on him, backing him against the dresser.

"You do still want to do this, don't you?"

Wade nodded enthusiastically. He couldn't believe the same woman who was so precious and vulnerable in his arms mere minutes earlier had metamorphosed into this vivacious predator, baring down on him in nothing but lacy black lingerie and a look on her face that could only mean one thing. He realised now, she could be whatever she wanted to be. Before he could make a move she was away, working open the buttons of his shirt and kissing each section of his torso as it became exposed. He threw the shirt to the ground and kicked off his shoes. It was time to strike back, he hoisted her up in what was almost a bearhug and laid her down on the bed. He hurled the sheets aside beneath her just before her back hit the mattress and elevated himself directly above her, leaning his head down to hers.

"I've dreamt about this... every day... for the last month," he crooned in between sensual kisses of her neck and jawline. His voice had reached the low, husky pitch that always left her reeling internally. She felt the sturdy grip of his hands, enormous, covering so much of her body at a time, a touch that somehow managed to be simultaneously robust and delicate. She felt them work their way across her stomach, running parallel behind the curve of her back and meeting at her spine to release the clasp of her bra. She sat upright and let it fall down her arms, as he did the same to remove his socks.

Now their roles were reversed, Wade on his back and AJ poised over him. She tenderly kissed his lips before reclining back on her knees to trace her hands over every sculpted inch of his chest with her face following their course down to his waistline. He could feel the increase in her temperature as she kissed her way along his stomach while her arms proceeded to work his belt loose then guide his jeans and boxers over his hips. Once she had eased them down to his knees she started forward with imperceptible motion and the grip of her right hand found its target between his thighs. His arousal had been evident from the moment her dress hit the floor and was only growing by the minute. As her eyes met his crotch she grinned with relish and pride.

She knelt back upright to give him room to ease his trousers from around his feet and toss them aside. He knelt opposite her in the middle of the bed, meeting her with a gentle, passionate kiss as he clutched her at the hips, as she meanwhile ran her hands up his tattooed biceps, caressing her way up to his neck.

He leant slowly towards her, wordlessly easing her onto her back once again as her legs spread either side of his. Now he was finally able to cup his hands around her exposed breasts; firm, perky and perfect. He spent the next few minutes glancing his thumbs across the peak of her nipples, giving her a tantalisingly brief rush of ecstasy each time, which she met with a sharp cry and a tremor. He took one between his thumb and forefinger, moving in a slow, deliberate rolling motion, while the other he took into his mouth, his tongue swirling indulgently around the hardened bud and against the tender flesh beneath it. As he clamped down and began to suck she started to lose it, her whole body twitching and squirming and grabbing at his shoulders, releasing unintelligible bursts of noise from her shaking lips that told him she was loving every moment of what he was doing to her, the feel of his shaft rubbing perilously close to the top of the inside of her thighs adding the fires of anticipation to her pleasure.

Moving his lips further down her stomach, he kissed across it as his hands kept pace along her sides. He could feel the furious hammering of her heart, see her ribs expanding and contracting with each heavy, tremulous breath. As his destination became increasingly clear, their ferocity only greatened. He stopped his hands at the point where her hips curved outwards, turning them downwards to hook his thumbs inside the laced fabric of her underwear, removing it in one fell swoop as she arched her abdomen and legs upward in assistance. This was it now, every inch of her tight, toned little body was revealed to him. He was having more trouble than ever pacing himself, but knowing he was bringing her so much satisfaction taking his time kept him restrained.

AJ had never experienced anything like this before. She didn't know whether he was physically more proficient than any man she'd ever been with, but something about his touch communicated experience and affection, it felt like he'd done this countless times before but that this time was more special and important, she was more special and important, than any other. He only had one route left to go now and she was silently begging for it, she was absolutely soaking with pleasure from his first assault.

She saw his hand move downwards, his long, wide fingers moving up and down the delicate, sensitive flesh, changing their pace and rhythm repeatedly so each time she became used to the sensation it altered and brought on yet another wave of elation. She looked up at that gorgeous face, recognising in it the adoring look he so often gave her, but this time mixed in with a fiery glow of passion in those magnificent green eyes. She knew she'd replay this image over and over again.

Then his face was gone, submerged from view between her thighs, she clung onto the bed sheet for dear life as his fingers stretched her and his tongue made its entrance, he quickly found the spot and began licking up, down and across, then moving in further, sucking and releasing as her juices flowed and flowed. She implored him to keep going in between wailed expletives. She was in paradise, and it was far from over yet.

Wade retreated from between her legs, removing her hands from her backside where he'd been gripping for leverage. All his fear and insecurity of getting it wrong, of disappointing her had long gone. She'd given herself to him completely and utterly, in body now as she already had in mind. There was something so natural and right about it. This was the real thing, the thing he'd heard about but doubted the existence of. This was making love.

"Are you OK, April? Everything's fine so far?" he asked, running his fingers along her smooth cheek and up through her hair as he looked down on her.

"Wade, I'm about as 'OK' as it's possible to be," she panted, arousal and anticipation in her every syllable. He leant in closer to her, staring straight into those stunning brown eyes.

"I love you  _so much_ , sweetheart. That's what this is all ab..." his declaration was silenced by a single slender finger that she held to his mouth.

"I love you too. But don't say it,  _show me_."

At her word, he rolled onto his back, lifting her atop him. Bringing her down onto his shaft, guiding it slowly and carefully inside of her. She closed her eyes and gave a long, low gasp. She pressed her arms down onto his shoulders and together they established a thrusting rhythm. Wade reached up and began to indulgently manipulate her breasts, which were bouncing with abandon as she rode him. He felt he could witness this sight and feel this sensation forever. As her cries became more frequent and higher-pitched, he knew she was approaching her climax. He slowly sat up, bringing her onto her back with her legs in the air and pushing him in almost as deep as he could go, making her cry 'YES!' with such abrupt force and volume he nearly pulled out in shock.

She was teetering on the brink, the vertigo of bliss searing round her brain, firing to the tip of every nerve and pore in her body. That sweet, glorious burning sensation. She felt his hands scoop under her bottom again, elevating it from the mattress and allowing him to push in yet further. There was an animalistic primacy to his momentum now, yet he somehow seemed to know how to apply as much force as possible without causing her any pain. She had no time to ponder how he was managing this before it hit her, repeated shots of invigorating, adrenaline-fueled ecstasy. She lowered her legs and gripped his neck tightly, pulling herself against him as she shuddered and hyperventilated. With one last almighty thrust, Wade returned the tightness of her clutch around the back of her ribs and gave a low, almost triumphant moan as he released into her. Their tension eased and they became limp in each other's arms, panting, sweating, basking in the glory of this wonderful moment.

He let her head settle side-on against his, kissing it fondly, listening to her deepening breaths, which still carried the aftershocks of her orgasm. This had been worth the wait and then some, he thought with a wide smile of fulfilment. He could think of no better way of showing he loved her than this.

As she slowly returned to Earth, AJ took stock of her day. She'd been made to feel like the lowest of the low, verbally and in one case physically assaulted at her own birthday party by people she considered friends, but thanks to Wade she'd still had the best birthday of her adult life. If that wasn't love then she didn't know what was.

 


	11. Belated

Wichita was clearly at the back of the queue when they were handing out interesting skylines, AJ thought as she gazed out of yet another hotel room window. Fifteen minutes ago, she'd with great reluctance said goodbye to Wade as he headed off for a signing at some shopping mall or other. Their travelling day was nothing short of wonderful; just the two of them, a rental car, glorious Midwestern sunshine, a ceaseless battle for control of the stereo and numerous stop-offs in every small town they liked the name of (Wade was particularly amused by Knob Noster, Missouri). During their picnic by El Dorado Lake, she'd finally managed to kiss him and photograph it before he suspected a thing, and that picture now took pride of place as the background to her laptop and phone.

She wouldn't have minded if they never arrived in Wichita. The thrill of performing and meeting her fans was tempered heavily by the prospect of stepping foot in that locker room, seeing those faces for the first time since their verbal lynching of her on the night of her birthday. Even if nothing more was said, she could be certain it was being thought, and in a way that was worse. Her only comforts were that Kaitlyn would be there to fight her corner if things got out of hand, Alicia had been sent home for another few weeks and Wade would be in the same boat. At the end of the evening they could compare scars and retreat back into their own little world. She rarely craved being alone now, even when indulging in her more solitary past-times it was nice to have him next to her doing his own thing, available for a talk or a cuddle or to make a cup of tea if she needed it. She wasn't sold on their music, but the Brits were definitely on to something when it came to restorative powers of a good 'brew'.

The sound of a knock at the door, once a source of promise and intrigue, filled AJ with dread. She knew Wade and Kaitlyn were occupied elsewhere and she could no longer be certain that anyone else would be coming in peace. Perhaps it was Rosa looking for round two, John or Kofi with a tedious fatherly lecture straight out of some teen melodrama (their texts the following morning had been preachy enough), maybe someone had finally realised their shortsightedness and come to apologise. She could only hope. She readied herself for a fight, either verbal or physical, and turned the handle.

"What the?"

"What does it look like? It's a cheeseburger with a candle in it. Now invite me in, people are staring."

Of her closer confidantes on the roster, only one had declined to join her in birthday revelry. Her brightest hope of someone going against the grain and taking an unblinkered view on that evening's revelations. She couldn't guarantee he would have helped her stem the tide of ill-feeling had he been there, she couldn't guarantee anything when it came to him. However, he was an avowed free spirit, and he delighted in reminding everyone of the fact by walking against the prevailing wind wherever appropriate. In many ways this surreal, unannounced visit was typical CM Punk. A sweet and thoughtful if downright bizarre gesture, but two days late. In her three years of knowing him, AJ had learnt that focusing on the positive in these situations was crucial to maintaining a friendship with the man.

"Listen, apologies for not making it to your little shindig. I'd like to say something came up, but to be honest I was in bed by 9," he drawled matter-of-factly.

"It's OK, being a 34-year-old teetotaller with zero interest in modern pop music is reason enough to avoid clubs like the plague," AJ smiled, blowing out and removing the candle from the burger and biting into it. She then decided she couldn't wait any longer to hear Punk's take on Alicia-gate.

"I'm guessing you know all about what went down?" she asked with slight trepidation. To her bemusement and annoyance, this illicited a wry smirk from his pierced lips and he gave a hearty chuckle. She frowned sternly at him.

"Sorry, it's just I bumped into John Boy at breakfast," he began to explain, still grinning.

"I told him he was on my way to see you and he was all..."

Punk pushed the muscles of his bottom jaw down and affixed her with a stoic stare.

"'While you're up there, talk some sense into the girl! She's no idea what she's getting into, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna stand by and let her heart get broken!'"

Punk finished his admittedly flawless Cena impression with a stiff salute. Normally this routine would have AJ in hysterics, instead she found herself disgruntled both at Punk's flippancy over what was clearly a very troubling situation for her, and John's evident belief she was some naive little child who if left to her own devices would stumble blithely into disaster.

"I just... He is aware I'm 26, right? And that I managed just fine before I had him pulling his guardian angel bullshit?" she questioned despairingly.

Punk sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned for her to join him.

"This is hard for me to admit, but, I do understand where Superman's coming from with things like this."

"Oh God, not you too!"

"Wait, hear me out, please. In case you haven't noticed, John and I, we're not the young ones anymore. When you've been around for as long as we have, there's this certain... obligation that you feel. Obviously he feels it more than me, he's got that whole alpha male locker room leader complex going on and while I do still find that mildly laughable, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel it too to an extent. It's not that we don't think you can look after yourself, it's that we feel we wouldn't be doing our job if we didn't warn you if something you're doing concerns us. That doesn't just go for you, it goes for any of you crazy kids."

"So you're saying you don't think Wade is right for me either, then? Well, thank you very much for your support," AJ pouted. She was aware of the irony of expressing her displeasure being treated like a teenager by sulking like one, but far too exasperated to care.

"April, I'm still not finished!" Punk admonished, sounding more like her father than ever.

"What I was gonna go on to say was, that while I understand his concern, I know you far more intimately than he does..."

"I hope that's not a reference to..." snapped AJ suddenly. Nothing made her more defensive than any potential mention of that night.

"Jesus, no, seriously, it hadn't even crossed my mind," Punk back-pedalled furiously.

"I just meant that we're very good friends. I understand you, I respect you and I know you're nowhere near as sheltered and naive when it comes to these things as a lot of people would have you down as... again,  _not_  a reference to that night. The point I'm trying to make is, I've never had a problem with Wade Barrett, I've no reason to believe you don't know what's best for yourself, and if I'm in anyone's corner on this whole issue, it's yours."

He fixed her with a meaningful look. Sincerity did not come easily to him and for him to force himself into a declaration such as this he must have cared pretty deeply. Her anger began to subside as her gaze silently met his.

"You, uh... just dripped cheese on your blouse," and with that her discontent evaporated entirely and she threw her arms around him.

"Welcome to the team," she smiled.

"Who've we got?"

"Me, you, Wade, Kaitlyn... that's it."

"We're very much the Spartans in this scenario, aren't we? Your man even has something of the Gerard Butler about him, dare I admit."

"I like to think so."

"Just make sure he knows how lucky he is. Anyway, gotta shoot, these biceps don't sculpt themselves. Later on, kiddo."

And with that he pushed to his feet and ambled out the door. He didn't want to look back at her, he'd escaped with his head held high and his dignity intact. That was the important thing, right? Then why, the second the door shut, was he leaning against the wall, face buried in his fists? Being the big man, doing the right thing, respecting her feelings, it was no consolation whatsoever at the end of the day. The inevitable had happened. He'd waited and waited, debating with himself, holding his tongue, and now he'd been made to pay for his procrastination and indecision. She was off the market, and all they'd ever have was that one night four months ago. A night she had insisted they strike from the record.

He pretended to feel the same way, to a certain extent he did, if only for the circumstances. She was a few days removed from finally concluding she would never be able to trust Trent, and though his intentions in coming to her aid had been purely platonic, though she had of course consented fully, he couldn't help but feel he was taking advantage of her at her most fragile. The following morning she'd flown into moral panic, mentally crucifying herself for engaging in the dark art of the desperate one-night stand. He'd told himself to ignore his want for more, she was far from the first girl to make him feel this way and he could be all but certain she would not be the last.

But the feeling never passed, being her friend became a trial as much as it was a joy. The look on her face at merest sliver of a reminder of their night together always drank his well of courage dry when he felt on the verge of divulging his true thoughts. This had been bad enough, but now he knew it was almost literally impossible. She was someone else's, and if he really cared for her then he would have to not just stand by and let this man steal her heart, but help him do it.

 


	12. Shattered

_'We could have been happy. Yeah, we weren't all that alike, but neither are him and... her. I'm head and shoulders above her both literally and figuratively. I don't mumble into my non-existent chest and push my hair around like I have lice when I talk, my dress sense isn't pitched somewhere between middle-schooler and librarian. Yeah, she's 'cute', in the same way my five-year-old niece is cute, but I'm sexy. I'm a girl you actually want to take to bed not just take out for ice cream. He's a real man, a stud, a conquistador. She's not the woman to tame him. She's not a woman. She wouldn't know what to do with him._

_I showed her that night. I made her cry like the spoilt little child that she is. Thought she'd get dressed all grown-up and have a nice evening out, thought her resolve would not be broken. She doesn't have any resolve, any spine, any anything. Now I've pushed the first domino, her fairytale is all going to come crashing down around her. Reduce her to the feeble nothing she always has been. Make her see the world the way I see it; fucked right up._

_You don't get your happy ending, princess. What have you done to deserve it that I haven't? Squat. You've lucked in. Snatched victory from the jaws of my defeat, my downfall. Why should you get to live in dreamland while I carry on in my waking nightmare? I don't know joy anymore, joy doesn't describe how I feel when I do what I do to you. Joy is an innocent, carefree word, it suggests everything being right. Oh yes, I get plenty of thrill out of all this, but it isn't joy, it's way more twisted than that. It's like ecstatic pain. Euphoric sorrow._

_When I snap her apart, Wade, you'll see how feeble she really is. Oh, I don't doubt she loves you, in fact that's the beauty of it. The strongest, truest feeling a human being can have, and I know she'd still throw it all away in the name of peer pressure. She's got the weight of the world on her back and she'll buckle, I'll bet she already has. You tied your colours to a sinking ship, my love, and I'll be cheering as you both go down. You could have had it so much better, darling. You made me into this. I hadn't a dark thought in my mind before you demolished me. I'm not the one who's going to ruin your life. You are.'_

Such a beautiful locket, Alicia thought, made with such love and dedication. It didn't deserve to be implicated with all this. Eighteen months of treachery and torment. In a way she was putting it out of its misery. Just like her, it would never be pure again now. Three heavy blows with the sledgehammer and it lay in pieces on the front lawn, tiny fragments of the picture inside just about discernible. She thought it was so romantic when he told her his photograph philosophy. Now it underlined how much of a filthy hypocrite he was. Their entire relationship had been one year-and-a-half-long pose.

She remembered how Rosa, then her best friend, now more of an unwitting stooge, had reacted when she discovered Alicia had kept all of these mementos:

_'Sweetie, you've got to throw all this stuff out, pronto, it'll drive you mad!_ '

Little had Rosa known it was already way too late by that stage. But in her own simplistic way she had a point. She rationed herself to one a week, to make it last. The more ludicrously absolute the destruction, the more satisfying. The adorable plush fox toy he'd bought for her 25th birthday, burnt to ashes. Her diamond tiara from their first and only Christmas together, ground into the dirt under the wheels of her BMW. And now this, an almost literal example of using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. And, as each week passed, she knew her destruction of the relationship that should never have been was being wrought thousands of miles away. How could it not be? AJ and Wade had thus far never done anything to show they weren't crushingly predictable. She could play them like puppets. She'd gone to the other side, she was through the looking glass.

She mopped the sweat from her brow and strode back up to the house. Never was she more glad of its seclusion than now, no need to put on any airs and graces for passers by. Space to be her scorned, screwed-up self. She stepped onto the porch and turned around to survey the spring sunset one last time, one of the natural wonders that used to bring her so much pleasure, but now seemed too incidental and irrelevant to derive any strong feeling from. So why was she bothering to study it? Perhaps she was subconsciously hoping to reawaken that side of her, to feel joy again, however ephemerally.

"Beautiful afternoon, no?" Alicia dropped the sledgehammer in shock, the head narrowly missing her right foot and landing with a thud on the decking. She whipped her neck around in the direction of the voice. Aksana reclined on one of the wooden deckchairs in the corner of the porch, clad in a straw sun hat, sunglasses and a white summer dress with a red and purple floral pattern, sipping casually on a glass of lemonade and looking very much at home.

"We don't get March days like this in Lithuania. It's still snowing in Alytus," she continued casually, as if her uninvited presence in Alicia's inner sanctum, to which Alicia had never given her the address, was in no way cause for alarm or query.

"How long have you been here?  _why_  are you here? Where did you get that lemonade from?" Alicia rifled through the questions with incredulous shock. Aksana grinned a sly, superior grin.

"Aren't I your agent in the field? I figured you were due a status report," she chirped. Alicia had been hoping to hear from her on the progress of her plan, but she was thinking more a pre-arranged phonecall.

"And you thought the best way to do that was sneak into my house and... make yourself a drink? Wait a minute... that's  _my_  hat, isn't it?"

"You give me your hat and your lemonade, I'll give you the information you desire," said Aksana, the grin never having left her face.

"O...K... So go on, has the inevitable happened, have they fallen apart under the weight of their own sordid lies yet?"

"You're not going to like this..." Aksana began, the continuing expression of smug glee on her face suggesting she herself liked it very much.

"A situation like this is a test of true love. And it is one they have passed. If anything I would say it's brought them closer together."

"No! No, this isn't right, she's couldn't possibly... that little... they all still hate her right?"

"They have their advocates, and that seems to be enough. They've done very well, I'm impressed."

" _Impressed_? Whose side are you on?" Alicia would strangle this woman if she didn't have such an inexplicable, invaluable wisdom to her. Acting on Aksana's advice may not have got her what she wanted, but she was damned if she knew what she was going to do next.

"Aksana doesn't take sides," there she went again, referring to herself in the third person like some mythical being, tutting at the very idea of being partisan as if she were well and truly above it.

"And to that end, I can't aid you any further, Alicia, you've had your turn. They've cleared your hurdle."

"Turn? Hurdle? What are you..."

" _However_..." Aksana ploughed seamlessly across her interjection.

"I happen to know there is more than one person with designs on blowing this ship off course, whether he is ready to admit it or not."

"Who?" Alicia breathed anxiously, her interest well-and-truly piqued.

Aksana produced her mobile phone from her handbag, and after a few seconds turned it in Alicia's direction, slowly cycling through a series of images of a disconsolate CM Punk leant face-first against a nondescript cream-coloured wall.

"I don't understand..."

"This is a good man. A better and more principled man than he is prepared to admit. But our friend Mr Barrett has something he wants,possibly more than anything else. Possibly so badly he may be willing to hurl said principles to the wayside. All he needs is the right...  _trigger_... at the right time. Love can do strange things to a mind, something you should know all too well."

"AJ. He wants AJ?"

"Maybe."

"Well does he or doesn't he?"

"Hey, I told you, I'm off the case. Just think of this pointer as a parting gift to you. If it's meant to be then fate shall have its way. Thanks for the lemonade."

_'That woman. That terrifying, infuriating, incredible woman. Well, this is far from ideal. In fact, I don't quite believe it. Clearly I've underestimated AJ a touch._   _Maybe Wade is a very persuasive man when it comes to someone he actually cares about, I wouldn't know. He didn't care. Even if AJ gets her happily ever after, the_   _important thing is it won't be with him. He'll be alone, he'll be broken-hearted. He's the prime target after all. There's always been a connection with her and Punk, they're of the same world, way more than she and Wade could ever be._   _Enjoy your precious little April while you can, Barrett. I have a feeling CM Punk and I are going to become much better acquainted when I get back._

_God! Listen to yourself, Alicia. Listen to what they've made you into. This is your life now. An existence dedicated to making people as miserable as you. I didn't choose to_   _be like this. I don't want to hate, I'd give anything to feel OK about everything again. To have faith, to be like I was, like AJ still is, damn her, but how can I? Look where optimism_   _and trust got me. I never had a thought for myself, I tried to get along with everyone. I tried to be my best to him most of all, and he hurt me the worst. I never lied to anyone, I never hurt anyone. What was my crime? I just wanted a reward for living the right way. I just wanted to be loved. Was that too much to ask?'_


	13. Persuasion

_Hand in glove, we can go wherever we please_   
_And everything depends upon how near you stand to me_   
_And if the people stare, then the people stare_   
_Oh I really don't know and I really don't care_

90% of Wade's attempts to lure AJ into his corner of the musical spectrum had failed:

_"I just want to give them all a hug and say 'cheer up, dude, it might not happen'. You're not supposed to want to hug rock stars, you're supposed to want to... well, y'know..." she'd once said ._

_"It's not about conforming to some rock star cliche. It's a study on the frailties of the human condition. It's poetry," he spat back._

_"If I wanted poetry, I'd... um... read poetry. I like bands who can bare their soul AND rock at the same time."_

_"Are you daring to insinuate 12 Stones are artistically superior to The Smiths?" he questioned, almost on the verge of apoplexy._

_"Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it? Write a meandering song with lots of metaphors and tiresome sexual ambiguity?" AJ said tauntingly, raising her eyebrow._

_"You know what, love, for the sake of our relationship, I think it's best we avoid discussion of music wherever possible."_

_"You just couldn't think of a comeback. AJ wins again!"_

_"For fuck's sake!"_

However, these words had struck a chord with her.

"I like this one, it's kind of about us," she said after a few moments in quiet contemplation.

"It is?"

"Yeah, it's all: 'you hate us, you laugh at us, you don't get us. But we've got each other, so go swivel, you're just jealous.'"

"Fortunately Morrissey was able to find a more delicate turn of phrase than 'go swivel' but yeah, that's pretty much what he's getting at," Wade smiled, encouraged by the uncharacteristic enthusiasm she was showing for his 'whiny British bullcrap'.

"Oh my God!" she suddenly exclaimed eagerly.

"We've finally found a song we both really like."

"What about 'The Safety Dance'?" he said, smirking.

"Well, stone-cold '80s classic though 'Safety Dance' undoubtedly is, it's hardly 'our song' material, is it?" AJ laughed.

"We don't need a 'song'," Wade sighed in a tone of casual cynicism.

"It's the first step to becoming one of those revoltingly cutesy couples it's painful just to be around. We may as well get 'His and Hers' bath robes while we're at it."

"Damn! Guess I'll have to think of a new six-month anniversary present," she cursed in mock-disappointment, causing Wade to grin into the laptop.

AJ pulled herself up from her seat at the dresser and joined him on the arm of his chair.

"Seriously, though..." she began.

"As much as I hope people come to accept us eventually, there's something quite romantic about this whole 'us against the world' thing. I'll be kind of sad when it's over."

"I've always hated half of them anyway, so it doesn't make much difference to me," Wade chortled darkly.

"Now, you know that's not true," AJ said, wrapping her arm around his neck and leaning against his shoulder.

"Much as you think it's cool to pretend not to be, you're a charming, personable guy, and I'm sure my parents will agree with me."

It was Wrestlemania weekend, and for some reason it hadn't occurred to Wade until she mentioned it a few days ago that AJ's parents would be making the very short trip from Union City for the event, and that she would want him to meet them. He hadn't even so much as told his own family he had a new girlfriend. He could already hear his mother's 'told you so's and 'it's about time you settled down's. AJ's background sounded entirely different to his and he had no idea how he was going to keep the conversation flowing. He was never very good at turning on the charm in a situation that made him uneasy and his defence reflex was usually to retreat into his cocoon of dismissive surliness. The Mendezes seemed like a very close-knit, protective clan and he knew it was very important to AJ that he made a good impression. Not that she'd put pressure on him at all, his anxiousness was entirely of his own creation.

Upon seeing his brow furrow and his head droop yet again at the mention of the p-word, she linked both arms around his neck and leaned in closer to him.

"Wade, my folks are really chilled out, open-minded, easy-going people. How do you think I turned out so awesome? You can say what you like to mom and she'll be either swooning or laughing. She's with me on your accent being the perfect combination of hot and hilarious. Dad might seem like he's interrogating you at times, but as long as the questions keep coming, it means he likes you. And most importantly, they know you've made their baby girl stupidly happy, and she was anything but stupidly happy last time she saw them, so that should excuse you all but the most appalling of social faux pas. You'll be fine."

She placed a lingering kiss of reassurance on his cheek, which had the desired effect of bringing that confident, boyish grin back to his face. She always found a way to do that, a way of making his worries seem ridiculous and unnecessary without dismissing them as such. He placed the laptop on the floor and slid her down onto his thighs, giving her an appreciative squeeze.

"I have to say, though, I am pretty nervous about meeting the Bennetts," she said softly into his ear.

"I can tell you with near-certainty that they'll absolutely adore you," he replied warmly.

"Oh, that I don't doubt. It's just that I probably won't have a fucking clue what they're saying. You've been over here for seven years and you're still damn near incomprehensible sometimes!"

* * *

One hour before Wrestlemania XXIX exploded into life, and two and a half before he took to the ring himself, CM Punk brooded silently in his locker room. No one but Vince McMahon and a handful of backstage staff knew the room belonged to him, he'd made sure of that. He needed to make sure interruptions were minimal ahead of the biggest night of his professional life to date. The night he ended the Undertaker's legendary streak. Together they'd planned the match to the nth degree, knowing only a truly phenomenal display of drama and athleticism would be accepted as the end of one of professional wrestling's great constants. He knew he was good enough, he didn't get where he was by doubting himself, but nonetheless he was both honoured and overawed that the Deadman had chosen him to be the one to draw the curtain on his Wrestlemania legend, and most likely his career.

For the next few hours, he would let no one or nothing else invade his thoughts. He considered it among his greatest skills, the ability to shut every other distraction from his mind at times like this, no matter how tumultuous his personal affairs may be.

In his trance-like state, fixating on one particular spot on the floor while he distilled and ordered his thinking, any noise from his surroundings buried beneath the hardcore music blasting through his earphones, he didn't notice the door opening. A pair of black high-heeled boots appeared in his line of vision. He jolted back in his chair with such a start it nearly tumbled backwards. What did she want? How had she found him? Was this an acceptable time to violate his vow never to swear at a woman?

"CM Punk," she said in a weary, analytical tone, looking him up and down.

"Um, if you're looking for the Divas locker room, darling, I believe it's three doors down on the right. Run along now, as you may have heard it's quite the night for me and I don't have time for chitchat." Nope. She didn't budge, just arched an eyebrow and cocked her head as if to say 'did you really think that would work?' Well no, he didn't. But it was worth a try.

"Whatever you want, Aksana, can it please wait? I really don't like to be disturbed before a big match. I'm asking you nicely to leave me alone."

She blinked at him, deliberating, then walked slowly across the room in the direction of the door. He was pleased she hadn't forced him into saying anything nasty that he'd no doubt regret and have to apologise for once the match was over and the fog cleared. But then she continued on beyond the doorway, picking up a folding chair that was propped up against the far wall and carrying it back to where she had been standing. She sat opposite him, leaning down with her forearms on her knees so her eyes met his. They'd had very little dealings with each other whatsoever in the past, yet here she was stubbornly imposing herself on him. If even his closer friends on the roster were expecting his attention at this moment in time he wouldn't have been willing to give it to them, but then, anyone who knew him well would never dare bother him at such a juncture. He sprang to his feet with a thud, any resolve to remain civil or gentlemanly being buried in an avalanche of frustration.

"Has your understanding of English regressed all of a sudden?! I said..."

She raised a finger to her lips and hushed softly. He was so taken aback by her audacity that he obeyed. Whatever she had to say, clearly she was determined to be given a chance to say it. Much as he still wished she'd leave him be, he couldn't deny he was now intensely curious.

He slumped back down in his chair, knotted his fingers together and rested his chin on them.

"You have thirty seconds, this better be good."

She smiled in triumph, taking an indulgently deep breath before she began to impart in a low, knowing voice.

"Every man in this business would kill to be you right now. This is a one-off. No one else can equal this. And you've worked for it, you've fought for every little scrap of something you've strung together to get to this point. It shouldn't happen for a guy like you, but it has. Because you've made it happen. You should feel on top of the world. But you don't, do you?"

"I'd feel much better if you either got to the point or got the hell out of my locker room!"

"OK, fine, we have it your way..." she snapped. Punk allowed himself a sly grin, pleased to have penetrated the veneer of enigmatic superiority she was trying to put on. But the next word out of her mouth wiped the smile clean off of his face.

"AJ."

"W-what about her?" he murmured, well and truly rattled. He knew exactly what, but how did Aksana? He never mentioned that night, or any of his true feelings towards the girl, to anybody anywhere. Was it that obvious that it didn't need saying? Had Aksana said anything to AJ about this? The focused, all-business mindset he had managed to cultivate before her arrival had now been well-and-truly tossed into the ether. His head hurt with questions and suspicion.

"You love her, more than any title, more than any victory. It's all hollow without her, isn't it? You can win all you want in the ring, but as long as this prize eludes you, you'll never feel complete."

"Oh really, is that so? Tell me then, why whilst 90% of the locker room has disowned or despaired with her over this whole Wade Barrett thing, I'm one of the few fighting for their right to be together? She's a great friend. I want to see her happy. That's all."

"You and I know there is more to it than that,  _Phillip_ ," she sneered wickedly.

"And what the hell does it have to with you if there is?"

"Oh, it has nothing to do with me, really. I'm just an... interested bystander. However, there is someone who shares your pain with regard to AJ and Wade's little union."

"My pain? Listen, however I may feel, I know what April wants from me and right now, it's my support as a friend. And I'm perfectly happy to give that to her."

"You live your life via principle, Phillip. You have a creed, and it extends way beyond not drinking or taking drugs. You never let your emotions get in the way of your beliefs, your loyalties, and it's admirable, it really is. But some things are worth breaking rules for, keeping to a code won't satisfy you if you're defying your heart by doing so."

"I'm not 'defying my heart', alright? I'm a grown man, I can accept things not going exactly how I want them to go, I've been dealing with knock-backs my whole life. Right now, all I'm focused on is going out there, being the best in the world, and making history. I think you can file 'psychologist' alongside 'wrestler' under 'jobs you suck at.'"

This insult didn't seem to bother her in the slightest, in fact she seemed delighted she'd drawn it from him. She stood up, flashing him the Cheshire Cat grin she'd been displaying intermittently throughout the whole discussion and made her way to the door.

She bade him farewell with a cheeky wave and disappeared from view.

"Just remember..." he heard her call from down the corridor.

"Love doesn't play by the rules."

 


	14. Jealousy

The bell sounded to bring an end to Wade Barrett's three month reign as Intercontinental champion. A shame, thought AJ, that belt looked good on him. The white of the strap really brought out the green in his eyes, she'd once joked. All in all, Wrestlemania weekend had gone swimmingly. Wade had played a blinder at dinner with her parents. Never before had she heard her father eagerly ask 'when can we see him again?' of one of her boyfriends. Dolph had long since become resigned to his pre-show slot and was in high spirits; he'd given a stellar performance and provided very pleasant company in the locker room while she watched Wade in action. Stepping through the curtain in front of 80,000 people just three miles from where she had worked as a receptionist a mere four years earlier had been an incomparably elating experience. Yes, she would have preferred to have been wrestling, and she certainly would have preferred to have been on the main card. However, at the end of the day, she was doing her dream job on the grandest stage possible in her home state, while her family and some of her oldest friends cheered her on from ringside and the man she loved waited for her backstage, before taking his own turn in the spotlight. It didn't get much better than that.

She bade farewell to Dolph and headed back to gorilla to greet Wade as he returned from the fray, slipping off her neon pink 'Show Off' wristband and replacing it with the beautiful gold bracelet that was now among her most treasured possessions. The changing of wristwear was now an important part of her pre and post-show rituals. She found it incredibly symbolic, the point at which she ceased to be April Mendez and became AJ Lee and vice versa. The perturbed stares from onlookers that always accompanied her and Wade's enthusiastic reunions following their matches no longer bothered her, in fact she almost revelled in them. No one had the guts to say or do anything, all hushed whispers and murmurings under the breath, so why should they care? There was never a point in her life where the prospect of other people holding unspoken animosity or ill-feeling towards her had bothered her less. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed of, and, as Kaitlyn had predicted, each week they seemed to attract a new advocate to their cause. They'd weathered the worst of the storm and stayed afloat. This was indeed how it was supposed to be.

Wade staggered up the aisle, wincing and clutching his chin. This wasn't selling, Kofi had connected way harder than he needed to with that kick. He almost expected it now, he'd been stiffed more times in the last few months than in his entire career previously, it was the rite of passage for the roster's bete noire. He was the last of the title match's four combatants to reach gorilla. Kofi had joined the massed ranks congratulating new champion Seth Rollins. Miz sat on a nearby crate grimacing as an EMT removed several splinters from his back, the legacy of a plunge through a table courtesy of the Shield, while Maryse looked on, her face a glorious mixture of concern and amusement. He lifted his right hand from his still-smarting jaw and offered a handshake to Seth.

"Good job, m'lad. Take good care of it, yeah?" he said cheerily, tapping the belt slung over the younger man's shoulder. He did his best to ignore the apprehensive glares as he approached the celebratory crowd, as if they expected him to hurl Rollins across the room or berate him for some mild misdemeanour or other during the match. That was how the hivemind worked. All it took was to break one girl's heart and then all of a sudden any display of civility surprised them.

"Thanks, man," Seth panted. Grounded and far too focused on his craft to get caught up in any locker room back-biting, Wade didn't begrudge surrendering the title to him one bit. Seth clearly had a very bright future and he was proud to have helped him on his way. However, he knew any more than a cursory 'well done' would be overstaying his welcome in the eyes of most of those present.

"Looooo-ser!" Wade heard a very familiar voice call from behind him, he wheeled round and met her eyes, the eyes he always hoped to meet first every time he exited the theatre of conflict.

He extended his arms to her, only for her to beg him off with her hands and back up, looking down her nose at him.

"I don't think so. I've no time for  _former_  Intercontinental champions," AJ smirked derisively.

"This girl goes where the gold is.  _Hey, Seth_!"

She feigned flirtation in the direction of the belt's new owner, twirling her hair around her finger and slowly swaying her hips.

"That's a little too convincing," Wade laughed and pulled her possessively towards him.

"Don't worry, Wadey," she cooed in a tone of mock-patronisation.

"You might be a choke artist, but you're  _my_  choke artist."

He leant down and she gave him a swift peck on the lips.

"Do only winners get snogs?" he asked playfully.

"No, it's just you'll have that icky cottonmouth thing going on. Trust me, I know a fair bit about kissing guys during and after wrestling matches."

" _My bloody chin_!" Wade lamented as another stab of pain rippled along his jawline.

"Eugh, not you as well! AJ sighed.

"I've had to put up with Nick yammering on about his damn nose for the last hour and a half. Did you see when he hit the apron? It was a standard bump, you both need to grow a pair!"

"To be honest, it was rather difficult to concentrate on that match considering the visual feast available for my delectation at ringside," crooned Wade, causing AJ to scrunch her face coyly and blush. He adored how even now he couldn't complement her appearance with out her turning into a bashful teenager. Still, he had a good joke lined up and couldn't resist busting her bubble.

"I don't know what you're looking so smug about. I was just saying that Big E looked absolutely stunning tonight. I'm a sucker for a bloke in a leotard."

AJ jumped up and prodded him firmly on the chin, causing him to hop and swear while she giggled mischievously. Before Wade could retaliate, a stagehand appeared with his trademark entrance coat. AJ's face lit up and she eagerly snatched it from him, holding it to her nose and inhaling deeply.

"Mmm, it smells of you. Like, sexy, fragrant pre-match you. Not gross, sweaty post-match you. I'm gonna try it on!"

"It's approximately twenty-four sizes too big for you," he grinned as she slid her arms into the jacket and they fell way short of emerging at the other end, while the tails dragged along the floor like a bridal train.

"Take a picture!" she chirped, thrusting her phone into his hand and striking her customary double thumbs-up pose. Wade rolled his eyes, outwardly despairing but as always inwardly delighted to see AJ driven into a whirl of giddy ecstasy by his presence. He knew his surliness and dry humour in response was all part of the fun for her.

"You look like a toddler in his dad's suit," he quipped, examining the photo and handing the phone back to her. AJ shone with glee as looked at the screen.

"To Twitter we go with you..." she muttered, navigating across the touchpad with her finger.

"Can't it wait?" Wade implored, putting his arms around her ribs and manoevring her gently into him. She slid the phone back into her jeans pocket and smiled sweetly as her gaze found his. For a moment they just stared at each other, simultaneously taking in the wonderful surreality of their situation. How they had gone from almost strangers to being completely at one with each other in such a short space of time, the purely coincidental turns of events that had brought them together, the tribulations they had already braved that had at times seemed insurmountable.

Wade raised his right hand, caressing AJ's cheek, causing her to bite her bottom lip. She didn't know how one simple touch from him could make her feel so many different positive things, but it always did. And to know she was the only girl who'd had this pleasure, the only one he'd ever loved, gave her such an overwhelming sense of importance and uniqueness. 32 years of untapped devotion being directed solely at her, no wonder it felt more intense and more powerful than anything she'd previously experienced.

"I love you," she sighed softly. Wade never used to understand it. Three words, how could they possibly mean so much? Anyone could say that. What a load of absolute crap. He realised now it wasn't really about the words at all, but everything around them. It was her gorgeous dark chocolate eyes widening with awe and infatuation, the tension and the holding of her breath just before the declaration left her, like it was the culmination of an almighty, irrepressible swelling of emotion shooting through her entire body.

She fell against his chest, apparently not dissuaded by the fact it was still smeared with sweat, her arms extending as far around his hulking torso as they could go. He enveloped her waist with one arm and placed the other snugly behind her head, so it was cradled in his palm as she rested it side-on against his heart. Her eyes were closed and a blissful smile was plastered across her lips. She looked completely and utterly at peace and he didn't want to disturb this moment until absolutely necessary. No doubt they were staring by now. He didn't want to look up to see. It didn't matter. No one else mattered right now.

"The feeling is more than mutual, poppet," he said, craning his neck downwards to warmly kiss the top of her head and inhale that alluring vanilla scent. To think he'd for so long been convinced feelings like this didn't exist, or that they were somehow a detriment. Every day his decision to renege and let her in was further vindicated, life with out her seemed far too dull, quiet and lonely to be possibly worthwhile.

"What the hell have you done to me, eh?" he questioned in thankful disbelief, shaking his head.

"I've made you into a man," she dreamily replied almost instantly, still not opening her eyes.

Wade looked up as Seth's congratulatory party began to file out, many attempting to send furtive glances their way before quickly deflecting their gaze upon making eye contact with him. Pathetic. Only Kofi returned his glare, giving a stiff shake of his head. Wade raised his eyebrows challengingly and a the left side of his mouth curled up into a grin. Kofi raised his hand dismissively as he turned and followed the others down the corridor. Maryse, now far removed enough from the backstage gossip circle to look upon them with unbiased eyes, was the sole well-wisher, mouthing 'aww' and smiling encouragingly at him. Wade beamed rather uncharacteristically back at her. It was nice to be reminded that, estranged from all the bullshit, the opinions expressed as fact, the demonisation that had occurred as a result of a few honest mistakes, they were just two people clearly in love. And as a great man once said, that wasn't a bad thing, that was a good thing.

* * *

Ten minutes away from his momentous showdown with the Undertaker, CM Punk arrived at gorilla ready to make his entrance. He'd somehow managed to brush off Aksana's bizarre intrusion a few hours prior as if it had never happened. His mind was now solely fixated on the business at hand. That, and offering heartfelt goodwill to the man he had first met as an ungainly 18-year-old at the Ring of Honor training school but now stood before him looking every inch a WWE superstar, every inch the champion he now was. But as he joined Seth in a brotherly embrace, he caught sight of the happy couple at the far end of the room.

From then on he faded into the background of the throng, ostensibly still part of the celebrations but in reality training his eyes firmly on AJ and Wade, no matter how he tried to will himself to avert them. How happy she seemed to be with that man, it was another level of joy to any she'd ever expressed around Punk himself. She was totally consumed by his company, as if the room were empty but for the two of them. So animated and affectionate, it would have been thoroughly heartwarming to see her this way if not for... Well, if not for the fact he would have given anything to switch places with Wade Barrett right now. Anything. Even the career-defining match he was about to work. God, what had happened to him? Aksana was right, no longer did his in-ring accomplishments stand foremost in his mind, no longer were they the be all and end all, one glance at her with  _him_  and all of a sudden it was just a man pretending to fight another man. Aksana couldn't have surmised it better,  _hollow_.

' _Five seconds and I'm turning away_ ' he tried to tell himself, but then he saw the words leave AJ's lips, her entire face softening in agreement with them. ' _I love you_.' His taped fists tightened like a vice and shook, his knuckles whitening with the pressure he was putting them under. It was taking everything he had not to march over there, shove that smug British bastard aside, lift her little frame into his arms and say ' _I love you too_.' But her words weren't directed at him. They never would be unless he did something about it. A line had been crossed in his mind, his principles shattered by the agony that gripped him. Beyond physical, beyond mental. The agony of a heart that wouldn't let him defy it any longer. He watched on aghast as Wade held her, saw her enter a dreamlike state in his clutches, her delicate features communicating pure contentment. Punk had slipped the moorings of rationality, morality and resignation. He knew that some day, somehow, he needed to be the one that caused that look. He had to have her.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" the shock caused him to finally break his unshakeable fixation upon AJ and Wade. From lord knew where, Aksana had appeared beside him, her tone spiky, self-satisfied and supercilious.

" _You_ ," he thundered, turning to her.

"I was absolutely fine with all of this until you opened your trap. Perhaps you should find a hobby that doesn't involve screwing up people's lives!"

"Screwing up your life? No, no, no," she said in a disapproving, schoolteacher voice, wagging her finger at him.

"I didn't plant these feelings in your mind, I merely uncovered them. The truth will always out eventually. I just like to... accelerate the process where I see fit."

Punk gaped at her. Who on Earth spoke like that? Behaved like that? And most importantly, could see into his own head better than he could? She didn't even know him really, yet every word she had spoken to him in the locker room was ringing loud and true. He scanned back over their earlier conversation, recalling its most intriguing detail, one he had dismissed totally at the time but was now of paramount importance.

"You said there was someone else who 'shared my pain' or whatever it was. Who did you mean?" he asked, desperation and self-disgust coating his delivery.

"You're an intelligent man, surely you can work it out," she drawled absent-mindedly.

"Alicia Fox? Oh now, come on! Hasn't she been through enough? I'm not dragging her into this."

"Oh, I think you'll find she's already dragged herself in.  _All in_."

"What are you talking about now?"

"There's more to sweet, heartbroken Alicia than meets the eye. I tried to give her what she wanted, but fate clearly wasn't on her side. However, it may be on yours. Your quest for AJ's heart may be the added variable she needs for her stars to align," well, that didn't clear anything up at all. Still, while he may have had no idea what she was talking about, Punk somehow knew Aksana was alluding to something rather crucial.

"And what does Alicia want?" he asked, rigid with anticipation.

"Wade Barrett.  _Broken_. And these days, there's only one way to do that."

Punk began to crack a sadistic smile more suited to his on-screen persona, then remembered himself and sealed his lips in horror. Conspiring against Wade was one thing, but taking sick pleasure in it was quite another. He couldn't let his mind warp to that extent.

"If you'll excuse us, young lady, the only date this man has tonight is with wrestling history," Paul Heyman placed a fatherly hand on Punk's shoulder, shooting Aksana a condescending look as if she were some gormless ring-rat. If only he knew, Punk thought.

As 'Cult of Personality' boomed through MetLife Stadium and Paul led him toward the curtain, Punk glanced back one last time toward the corner where AJ and Wade had been stood. They had now separated and were looking right at him.

"Break a leg, Punkers!" AJ shouted enthusiastically and raised her thumbs again. She'd long learnt not to say 'good luck.' Wade, for his part, nodded at him in respectful acknowledgement and smiled supportively. Punk weakly returned both the smile and the thumbs, but as soon as he turned back to the curtain his face plummeted. He shut his eyes, began his usual routine of bouncing on the balls of his feet and circling his wrists, vainly hoping to erase the last few minutes from his mind, if only temporarily. He was going to hate himself by the end of all this. But then, if he let her slip away, he'd never forgive himself. If he were able to wrench AJ from Wade, convince her it was him she needed to be with, then she'd be happy, and maybe that would assuage his guilt. He just hoped fate was on his side.

 


	15. Conspiracy

CM Punk didn't know it were possible to feel this conflicted. He'd already tried turning back twice in his short walk along the corridor. He didn't want to admit it had come to this, but it had. He had to accept he was in a strange place, casting his lot in with people he barely knew let alone trusted, in the faintest hope that it would lead him to what he was now all but certain he could not do without.

With a deep breath, he knocked on the door of room 409. He had no idea what to expect. The woman he had spoken to on the phone sounded nothing like the Alicia Fox he'd exchanged the odd conversation with over the years. That girl would never entertain such a bizarre, insidious way of conducting herself, but that voice; detached, cold, spiteful, sounded willing and capable of just about anything.

The door swung open, Alicia stood impassively, hands on hips, dressed for the Wrestlemania after-party she had decided not to attend when the opportunity to consort with him arose.

"Well, here I am," drawled Punk, turning his wrists inwards with all his fingers pointing to himself.

"And no one knows you're here?"

"Do you think this is the kind of thing I like to broadcast?" he snapped irately, then shook his head with an almighty sigh.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

Alicia led him inside, and Punk surveyed the bizarre set-up she had concocted for their discussion. Two chairs sat opposite one another at the dining table, which had a candle in the centre. A glass was set at either place, one containing wine and the other containing Pepsi. Beside the candle lay a small stack of paper, some printed documents, others handwritten. Amidst it all were some candid photographs of Wade and AJ together, seemingly snapped in various arena corridors and hotel lobbies. What had he let himself in for?

"Have a seat," Alicia said flatly, motioning to him. He obeyed silently, eyeing her with extreme wariness and wonderment the whole while.

"So, in a nutshell..." she began heavily.

"You want AJ. Wade has AJ. I have nothing. And I want him to have nothing too. I think our aims are rather compatible."

"And I thought you and Aksana were such sweet, harmless girls," Punk smirked in disbelief.

"I  _was_  a sweet, harmless girl," Alicia snarled through gritted teeth, tightening her grip on the wine glass and then taking a stiff sip.

"Wade drained all the sweetness and harmlessness out of me. Left me to rot, shacked up with that laughable, cloying little..."

Punk's eyes glowed with ire and he banged hard on the table. He was aware Alicia did not hold AJ in the highest regard but hearing her mentioned in such disdainful, disparaging tones only heightened his self-loathing at fraternising with this woman and his worry that any plan they hatched together would bring AJ to unnecessary harm.

"Let me get this straight. Whatever Wade did to you has  _nothing_  to do with April, and it disgusts me how you've made her feel over all of this. I don't know why I don't just tell her about the real you."

"Yeah, cos you're really in a position to do that," sneered Alicia derisively.

"We work together, or we go down together. You tell her how I really feel, I tell her how you really feel."

Punk leant back in his chair, reclining on his palms and wincing in frustration. Alicia had him exactly where she wanted him. Much as he tried to pretend, there was very little power he could exert over this situation.

"OK..." he breathed.

"But I want your word that she won't bare the brunt of any of this. It's all on Wade. I've no problem with the guy, but you clearly do, and no matter how I try to get away, my mind keeps pulling me back to..."

He paused, closing his eyes in acute discomfort.

"Back to what?" queried Alicia, pleasantly intrigued.

"To tonight. The two of them. That big, smarmy bastard with his hands all over her, the way she looked at him, those words, that wasn't a polite 'I love you, it was... I mean, why him? They have nothing in common, I've been there for her through so much and when we finally get together she erases it from history...  _ugh_!"

His hands gripped around the top of his shaven head, then covered his face as he leant his elbows on the table. Alicia was suspiciously silent. When he removed them he found her grinning at him. Not the cute, gleeful beam she was known for; a grin which only came with the most bittersweet and unwholesome of pleasures. She'd touched a nerve, brought him out in a terse, vengeful voice like the one she had been using to describe AJ and Wade seconds earlier.

"I think it's time to drop the high and mighty act, Punk. You're just as desperate and as obsessed as I am. We're not good at not getting what we want, and when it comes to what we want most..."

She picked up the photograph at the top of the pile, Wade and AJ holding both of each other's hands as they stared dreamily at one another, outside the Verizon Center the previous week. She ripped it slowly and indulgently down the middle, splitting the couple in two. She then held the half containing Wade over the candle, eyes flickering with relish as the paper warped, blackened and slowly disintegrated.

"You're fucking cracked!" Punk started.

"Tell me honestly, can you bare to look at them?" Alicia said tremulously, holding the stack of pictures to his face as she rifled swiftly through them. Intimate moment after intimate moment flashed quickly by Punk's eyes, AJ looking totally at one with this man she barely knew from Adam at the start of the year. Punk couldn't hide his disquiet.

"No? Didn't think so," she said hurriedly. She was determined to hammer home the point that the only difference between the two of them was denial. Punk was horrified at the extent to which it was becoming hard not to agree with her and knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Just tell me what your plan is!" he exclaimed desperately, yanking up the stack of papers, hoping to learn the meaning behind them as quickly as possible, tear out of there, find his bus, bury his head and hope he felt less like a deranged sociopath come the morning.

"These are the house show cards for the coming week," she began, pointing at a WWE-branded memo in his hand.

"As you can see, Wade is on a separate circuit to me, you and AJ, which gives you a whole week to worm your way in. Wade is a very jealous, protective man, and nothing brings him to the boil more than the idea of those close to him being hurt or taken away. And his reflex answer to any problem is his fists. Oh, he's getting better at counting to ten, but push all the right buttons and she'll see her refined English gentleman is a possessive brute of the worst kind. He'd never hurt her, but if  _you_  were to get too close..."

"April won't be able to deal with that," Punk chimed in.

"She can't take people getting angry on her behalf, especially if things turn violent."

"Exactly. And if there's anything worth you getting beaten up over, it's this, right?"

"Right." Punk muttered resignedly. This was the way it would have to be. At least any damage done to AJ would be brief, only mental, and something he should readily be able to comfort her over.

"Then we have a deal. See you in Rotterdam."

Punk reticently shook her outstretched hand, his expression continuing to remain stoic and foreboding while she flashed that unerring grin again.

"I'm  _still_  not the slightest bit happy with this!" he thundered as he got to his feet.

"Happy? You think I'm happy? Happiness doesn't come into it, Phillip, I haven't been 'happy' for months. I may seem to take pleasure in this but please don't think I'm enjoying myself. I see this as a necessity the same as you do. Just because your scheme has a happy ending doesn't make you better than me. If I'm fucked up then you're fucked up."

She joined him on his feet, her hazel eyes glaring at him with steely purposefulness.

"We're both doing what we  _have_  to do. You have to have AJ, I have to ruin Wade."

Once again, Punk couldn't deny the truth in Alicia's words. Next week would be the most difficult, nerve-wracking, conscience-wrenching week of his life, but his mind had backed himself into this corner now and there was no way out. His best, maybe his only, shot at happiness was to fight dirty.

 


	16. Manipulation

AJ was bouncing around the backstage area with unconcealed delight. The booking for the European tour had thrown up her longest concentrated spell of in-ring action for months, with a match at each date. She would alternate between putting over Paige and Sasha Banks, two NXT rookies being trialled for promotion to the main roster. They were both very bright, talented young girls and AJ was pleased to be helping them on their way. As an added bonus, they hadn't been around the women of the main roster often enough to be sucked into Alicia's support circle, so AJ needn't worry about 'accidental' stiffs and botches.

_'All ready to go out and remind 12,000... Rotterdamians? Rotterdammers? that I'm more than just transport for a briefcase. Fully expecting to get a nosebleed when I climb the turnbuckle it's been so long. How's Belfast? xxxx'_

_'Seeing as we have the night off, Finlay is taking Sheamus, Drew and I around his favourite watering holes. These are certain to be the last texts I send you tonight with correct spelling and grammar and without overwrought declarations of affection xxxx'_

_'Very much looking forward to that, both receiving the texts and mocking you mercilessly for them in the morning :D xxxx'_

_'Now I know mockery = love in your demented logic I'll allow it. At the first pub now. That's right, an Englishman, a Scotsman and two Irishmen have just walked into a bar :P xxxx'_

_'I don't follow :S'_

_'Bugger! I've gone and forgotten you're American again. 'An Englisman, a Scotsman and an Irishman walk into a bar...' is a popular set-up for jokes in the UK, but now I've had to explain the reference it's lost all comedic value'_

_'Ha! Now you know how it feels when you no-sell my Pokemon references :P. Have fun, don't get too bladdered xxxx'_

_'Full marks for the correct usage of 'bladdered'. I would also have accepted 'plastered' or 'ratarsed' :) Good luck sweetheart, speak to you later xxxx'_

* * *

Elsewhere in the arena, Alicia Fox was also looking extremely pleased with herself. In the week since her and Punk's rendezvous, fortune had dealt her a quite unbelievably good hand. She'd been asked to return to Florida to scout NXT's young female talent, with the ultimate goal of selecting two of them for tryout matches in Europe over the coming weeks. The idea came to her almost instantly. She was certain Punk would not approve, and thus must never know. Alicia arrived in Tampa looking for the perfect pawn in her chess game, and she very quickly found her.

Just 21 years old; impressionable, naive, and oh-so-desperate to achieve her dream, Sasha Banks was just perfect for what Alicia had in mind, and her fawning idolisation of AJ was to make corrupting her all the more poetic. Sasha and AJ were cut from the same cloth, the same simpering sunniness, the same infantile interest in comic books and cartoons, and duping Sasha with her nice girl act awakened the same twisted satisfaction in Alicia as it had with AJ. Sure, this girl had done nothing wrong, but neither had Alicia when she was awakened from her cosy bubble of youthful optimism by Wade's deceit. She was teaching her a valuable lesson in what life was really like.

Now here they were a week later in Rotterdam. When Sasha had been given the opportunity to request her opponent there would only ever have been one answer, and knowing how desperate AJ was to return to in-ring competition on a regular basis, there was no way things would not play out exactly to script. They were so happy to be working together, she'd watched from afar as they planned out the match with the road agents, in between impassioned discussions of anime. Pathetic, sheltered children, oh how she would enjoy biting them with the reality of adulthood.

Fifteen minutes before they took to the ring, Alicia found her charge stretching in an empty women's locker room, a look of apprehension and determination on her face.

"Looking good, Miss Banks!" she trilled, faithfully replicating the warmth and brio that once came naturally to her.

"I'm not feeling all that good. Look..." Sasha murmured, and held out her hands so Alicia could see them quivering profusely.

"Hey, if you make it down the ramp without tripping, you've already done better than me in my first match," Alicia smiled, putting a comforting arm around the younger woman's shoulder.

"Oh God, really?" Sasha said, with a relieved chuckle Alicia found utterly risible.

"Sit down, sweetie, let Foxy tell you a story..."

Maintaining her grip around her shoulders, Alicia guided Sasha onto the bench.

"Back in 2008, before you were born..." she began, teasing another giggle from Sasha.

"...at a house show, like this one, I made my debut. This was back when I was doing the whole dancing thing with DJ Gabriel, which I won't be offended if you don't remember, it's probably best forgotten anyway. So as you can imagine, an incredibly nervous, gangly girl with long, easy-to-trip-over legs doing her best to both memorise a dance routine  _and_  concentrate on not throwing up at the same time isn't going to be too sure on her feet."

"The point is, they expect you to be nervous, they expect you to make mistakes, but from what I've seen, you're pretty damn flawless. I botched the hell out of my match that night, you could down a whole bottle of vodka right now and still do better than me!"

Sasha smiled appreciatively, shut her eyes and gave a lengthy, cleansing sigh as she sought to apply Alicia's empathy to the tension she was feeling.

"I can do it," she said with finality.

"You certainly can," Alicia affirmed.

They both got to their feet. Alicia was fighting hard to suppress the wicked sneer provoked by the bombshell she was about to drop on this unsuspecting little sapling.

"Th... thank you. For all of this," Sasha said timidly.

"Hey, you deserve it," Alicia pulled her into an embrace, waited a cursory few seconds, then leant down into her ear. Darkening her timbre as much as possible in hope of instantly causing unease, she hissed:

"Now Sasha, let's talk about why you're  _really_  here."

* * *

The match was to be a standard 'plucky rookie versus experienced heel' affair; AJ's overconfidence allowing Sasha to take control in the early going, before AJ found her feet towards the end, only for Sasha to duck a top rope cross-body and roll her up for a surprise victory. AJ would then launch into one of her trademark post-match tantrums until Dolph ran to the ring to placate her and lead her away.

Thus far, everything had worked to plan, their styles had complemented each other perfectly, Sasha was remarkably sure-footed for one so young and the crowd was sounding their appreciation. AJ steadied herself on the top rope, preparing for the ending spot. Sasha staggered to her feet in position, but as AJ launched herself horizontally through the air the rookie seemed to stumble forward, causing her to fall frontwards into AJ rather than back onto the canvas. AJ's right hand landed awkwardly on the mat, her wrist twisted unnaturally and taking her entire body weight. She felt the sharp point of Sasha's knee land with a crunch on top of the wrist, pushing her hand at a 90-degree angle to her forearm. AJ yelped as a vicious stab of pain ricocheted along her arm. Sasha manoevred into the roll-up as best she could and the referee counted three.

AJ rotated onto her knees, pushing her torso off the mat with her good hand, and watched with horror as the other fell limp and she found herself unable to lift it. This time her cries and screams required very little projection, she was both scared and frustrated. What had happened? Why did it have to happen now just as she was finally getting chance to do what she'd signed up for in the first place? She sighed with relief as Dolph slid into the ring and knelt beside her, throwing his arms around her theatrically as the crowd booed.

"That looked ugly as hell, are you OK?" he asked, under the auspices of whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

"Something's happened. I can't lift my hand," breathed AJ agitatedly.

"Let's get you checked out. Are you alright walking?"

"Yeah"

He lifted her upright, parted the ropes for her and guided her down the aisle.

The moment they were through the curtain, she was ushered down into a chair and the medical team began to check on her. As she explained what had occurred, she noticed Sasha surveying the scene in floods of tears.

"God, I'm so sorry!" she cried, running her fingers up through her golden brown hair in panic as she crouched next to the chair.

"I... I just slipped and..."

Even amidst her discomfort and fury at the unfairness of the situation, AJ didn't blame the poor thing and couldn't stand to see her blaming herself. She'd been in her shoes plenty of times before in her early career.

"Sasha, it's OK. It's not your fault," AJ lifted her good hand to the girl's shoulder.

"I fucked up... that's it now, I'm never getting this chance again," Sasha wailed.

"Listen to me," AJ said sternly,

"That is  _not_  going to happen, I'll make sure you don't take the wrap for this."

Sasha thanked her with her eyes, but before she could get the words out, another wave of tears overtook her and she scurried from the room sobbing.

Now she only had her own anguish to concentrate on, AJ realised the pain she was still in both physically and mentally. She glanced down at her side and saw the paramedic had finished bandaging up her hand and forearm.

"Looks like a broken wrist," he said regretfully.

"We're going to have to get you to the hospital."

She hated hospitals. Nothing good had ever happened to her in them. And the idea of going there alone now filled her with almighty dread. Not speaking a word of Dutch was sure to make the experience even more traumatic. She looked up pleadingly at Dolph and Big E who had stood guard by her the whole while.

"We'd love to come with you, babe, but we're on in twenty," her on-screen boyfriend lamented.

"If you're still there when we're done, we'll be right over."

"I'll bring a bagel," Big E added in his usual detached, aloof tone as if he were speaking to no one in particular.

"And if you're lucky, Miss AJ, I may even bring one for you too."

AJ had to smirk at this.

"That's the spirit. You'll be fine, pumpkin," Dolph said, kissing her on the cheek.

"What he said. But without the 'pumpkin'. I see you more as a mango, or a guava," put in Big E, lightly ruffling her hair as they headed back to the locker room to change.

Lovely as it was to have their support, it didn't change her predicament. In truth, there was only one person she truly wanted at her side at a time like this, and he was 700 miles away, no doubt in an inebriated malaise. A cuddle from those strong, commanding arms and some soft words of sympathy that ended with 'poppet' would be just wonderful right now. Kaitlyn would have been an acceptable substitute, but she was probably busy conducting her own exploration of the Belfast nightlife. So who was there?

"I'll go with you," she glanced up at the sound of those familiar Chicagoan tones. She'd forgotten he was here, but thank heaven he was. Once again, her least reliable close friend had come through for her when all the usual dependables could not.

"Phil, you don't have to..."

"I know I don't have to, since when did I do anything I didn't want to do?" he smiled, dropping down to her level.

"Here let me help you up. Which one's the bad one? I don't want to make it worse."

"The one with the freaking bandage on it, you moron!" she laughed.

"Oh... I thought you'd taped your fist as some sort of homage to me."

"Get over yourself."

"You know I can't do that."

* * *

Alicia waited outside the arena, prepared for the feeble, ineffectual tirade Sasha would no doubt try and direct at her. Finally the door swung open, and five feet five of distraught Bostonian began hammering furiously against her chest.

"Why did you make me do that? What if it was worse? What if I'd ended her career or something? And I had to  _lie_  to her, like it was all an accident..."

Alicia gripped Sasha's shoulders like a vice, pulling her out of pounding range and getting as close as possible to the rookie's face with her own.

"I didn't  _make_  you do anything, my dear. Now, you're a long way from home with no one to look after you but me, so I suggest you stay on my good side. You've done your job, and I'll see to it there is no punishment on your part, as long as you don't breath a word about our arrangement. Not to AJ, not to Wade, not to Punk, not to anyone."

"You're... you're insane! Why should I do anything you say?" Sasha cried. In one fluid motion Alicia spun her around, wrenched her arm behind her back and pressed her hard against the parking garage.

"Have you ever had your heart broken, Sasha?" Alicia said icily over her shoulder.

"What?" panted Sasha, frightened and baffled by this non-sequitur.

"Have you ever had your heart broken?" questioned Alicia once again with another wrench of the arm.

"Umm... yes," she squeaked.

"How many times?"

"Uh... once, I guess? I don't know..."

Alicia gave a shrill, hectoring laugh.

"Once?" she cooed amusedly, then drove her against the garage door once again.

"Come back to me when you've had it happen over, and over again. When the one person who looks like he's going to change everything hurts you worse than all the others combined and gets off scot free. If you've still got faith in life then, if you're not left doing this sort of thing in order to feel anything approaching happiness, maybe then,  _then_  you can call me insane. Until then, you don't have a  _fucking clue_  what you're talking about, child!"

"Alicia, please stop!"

"Oh, it's OK, little one, I'm going to let you go now. While you've still got your dream career, while you've still got a full set of teeth, it would be a good idea to do exactly what I say, don't you think?"

Sasha nodded slowly.

"Good." Alicia finally released her hold, letting the girl hurry pathetically in the direction of the taxi rank, her sobs echoing into the night. No way were Punk and his principles going to stop her doing things her way. She was having way too much fun.

 


	17. Misunderstandings

The Irish car bomb. Tastelessly named, but perhaps aptly so when one considered the havoc it was wreaking upon Wade Barrett's head within seconds of opening his eyes that morning. A month without drinking heavily and all of a sudden the immunity he had developed to hangovers had completely deserted him. It was like being in university again, except this time he knew who he would see next to him when he opened his eyes, and he knew she would take care of him. She'd probably be as mockingly shrill and bouncy as she possibly could whilst doing so to rub it in, but nonetheless a helping hand in removing the chainsaw from his brain was more than welcome. Then he rolled over, taking a couple of stiff, slow blinks as his surroundings slid into focus, and the how, why and where of his situation finally caught up with him. He was alone in a single bed, hundreds of miles away from his expected source of coffee and comfort, and his only companion in the room sat facing directly at him, grinning his ginger head off.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Wade groaned, tentatively easing himself into a seated position, bringing on a new rush of throbbing aches, as if a hand were masochistically poking all the most sensitive parts of his cranium.

"Pleased to see you too, fella," Sheamus smirked.

"Sorry, but you're hardly top of the list when it comes to people I like to wake up next to," quipped Wade.

"No, of course not," the Irishman replied, then gazed upwards with theatrical wistfulness.

"You'd much rather be gazing upon that long brown hair, those gorgeous eyes you could get lost in for hours..."

He knew he was being mocked, but Wade couldn't help but smile dreamily.

"...well I'm sorry to break it to ya, but Drew went home with some lass he met at the last pub," Sheamus added with pinpoint timing, causing Wade to concede a chuckle.

Wade picked up his phone from the bedside table as Sheamus rose from his chair and stood beside him peering absent-mindedly out of the French windows.

"Y'know, this new Wade Barrett's gonna take some getting used to," he went on.

"The one who gets laid low by a, by our standards, relatively mild night on the town. The one who pines for a specific girl rather than shagging at will..."

"She didn't reply to my text," Wade muttered glumly, before his mouth gaped open in protestation as Sheamus seized control of the phone with a swipe of his enormous arm.

"Let's see, that might be because it was sent at 1:57 AM and reads... oh this is just too good to be true..." he began pacing back and forth, pointing his index finger upward as he orated.

"'To loveliest, most... my best guess is you tried to say 'virtuous' here, not a good idea after ten pints, ...girl in the world. I adore you and would swap all the beer in Belfast to be cuddling you right now."

Wade seethed and blushed at the same time.

"Who'd have thought it, Wade Barrett, a cuddler!"

"I'll be Bullhammering you extra-hard tonight for this!"

"Well, I won't be giving you White Noise, seems like you'll enjoy the set-up a bit too much!"

"Will you just give me the phone so I can call her?"

"You do that, fella, I'm off to the bathroom to throw up for reasons entirely unrelated to the amount of alcohol I've consumed."

The picture she'd set as her caller ID never failed to make him laugh, seeing her fix the camera with a thoroughly disapproving frown: 'That way whenever I call you'll feel like you're up to no good and I'm checking up on you' she'd said.

He was probably about one ring from being diverted to voicemail when to his relief the dialling tone gave way to an eager, cheery 'Hey, you!'

"If you're wondering why I didn't text back, I've only this moment been able to stop laughing. You've only been away from me for like, two days, man the fuck up!"

"I think one must first experience inebriation before they can mock another for the over-sentimentality it induces in them," Wade answered in a scholarly tone.

"Woah,  _way_  too many big words for this time in the morning. Aren't you supposed to be hung over?"

"Believe me, my head is more than a little sore at the moment. Sheamus is as ever fresh as a daisy, or should that be a marigold, despite having downed twice as much."

"Well, you're not the only one feeling sore today," she sighed.

"Oh right, the match. How did it go?"

"Umm, put it this way, I now know the Dutch for 'fractured wrist'"

Before he had chance to reign it in, Wade's head became overrun by a torrent of rage and indignation. He'd never spoken it, but he'd been quietly dreading the next time AJ stepped foot in the ring as an active participant, knowing there was no reason she would not be on the receiving end of the calculatedly errant fists and boots he'd become so accustomed to since the beginning of the whole Alicia debacle. And now, while he was hundreds of miles away in the midst of careless revelry, his fears had come true. How dare they hurt her, now of all times. As if his distance from her wasn't frustrating enough already, the idea of her suffering without him there to help had sent him clean over the edge.

"I fucking knew it! I'm going straight to Vince about this..." he thundered.

"Wade, no, it was nothing deliberate. Sasha's an absolute sweetheart, she'd never do anything like that. She's not one of Alicia's vigilante galpals, she's  _my_  friend. She slipped. It was an accident."

"Slipped," he scoffed incredulously.

"Let me guess, some tart they've sent out there straight off the catwalk?"

"Stuart!" as if her brusque, razorlike delivery wasn't enough of an indicator, the mention of his birth name always told him when he'd incurred the worst of her ire.

"This is  _no one's_  fault. And if you try and make Sasha feel worse about this than she does already I will be... well, put it this way, you're not going to do that. Everyone makes mistakes, just like you have  _yet again_  made the mistake of thinking the best response to a situation like this is to scream blue murder and play the blame game."

Wade caught his breath and drooped his head ruefully. While it may have been nowhere near as severe as the Trent conversation, he'd done exactly what he swore he'd never allow himself to do again, and just as last time his anger over her pain had caused her yet more upset. He took a moment to compose himself and made sure to soften his speech before continuing.

"I'm sorry... how are you feeling?"

"That's more like it," she said firmly, although Wade hoped he was right in detecting the sound of a smile in her voice.

"Well, it's a pretty bad break. They reckon about six to seven weeks. They kept me in the hospital overnight for reasons no one seemed quite prepared to explain, but I was discharged first thing this morning. I had plenty of company though, the most memorable of which being a really cute nine-year-old girl with a twisted ankle who knew everything about me down to the names and ages of my dogs, and a decidedly peculiar young fellow who'd fractured his cheek in a bar fight and kept asking for my phone number, although he soon turned his attentions elsewhere when I showed him your picture. And of course I had Phil to ride with me there, he even picked me up too."

"Phil?"

"I know, I don't believe it either, CM Punk turned up somewhere when he said he would. He wasn't even late or anything. I told him to get himself checked out before we left, he's clearly not well..."

"You're carrying on with the tour then?"

"Of course! I mean, wrestling's obviously off the menu, but my briefcase-holding hand is still good to go. Certainly beats sulking at home waiting for you to get back."

"You could even throw in some cast shots when the referee's back's turned."

"I like it! Very old school. Anyway, I think we've got to check in soon. We've had to take a later flight to everyone else. Ask Sheamus if there's anything in Dublin I have to see."

"He's in the shower, but seeing as I've never seen him genuinely thrilled to be anywhere other than a pub, a wrestling ring or a rugby stadium I think his and your idea of a must-see differ considerably."

"Sad. Gotta go I'm afraid, I'm reserving a big space on my cast for you to write on, so you've got two weeks to think of something witty yet romantic. Love you!"

"Love you too. Text me when you've bought your first overpriced beverage. I want to see if you can beat my ten euro cappuccino from last year."

"Challenge accepted. In a bit, mate!"

By AJ's side in the departure lounge, CM Punk looked on in contemplative satisfaction. Hearing her say those words didn't set him off this time, not even her beaming to herself as she put the phone down and glanced at the bracelet around her good wrist could instigate another landslide of jealousy. His eavesdropping had confirmed two things he was banking on in his efforts to lead her heart astray. Firstly, that Wade's reflex response to any danger their relationship faced would be anger, and that AJ found that thoroughly intolerable. Secondly, that in her eyes CM Punk and dependability were perfect strangers, and proving that to not be the case could be key to transforming her perception of him. If she could trust Punk to be there for her, and couldn't trust Wade to keep his cool when she needed him most, surely that settled it? He could only hope so.

"Is everything toodle pip and tally ho with that chap of yours?" he drawled, smirking as AJ rolled her eyes at these cliched anachronisms.

"Yup, seems to be. Well, aside from the usual red mist. He tries so hard though, I know he does. I just hope he succeeds some day."

_'Not if I have anything to do with it.'_  Punk thought to himself. If Wade's resolve could be broken this easily, this would prove a lot simpler than expected. And after all, no one could push buttons like he could.

"I wish he was here. Then you wouldn't have had to go so out of your way. This is so embarrassing, I should have asked the doctor for a balloon and a wowwipop and have done with it."

"I remind you again, my dear, I didn't  _have_  to do anything. You know, I don't exactly enjoy travelling en masse either, it's nice not to be herded around, to travel at your own pace, makes you feel... human again. Besides, I'm way overdue a catch-up with my favourite little buddy, beats having the same old conversations about the same old shit with Kofi."

Punk winced slightly, his desperation to seem as platonic as possible was frequently bringing him out in the most unnatural turns of phrase.

"Favourite little buddy?" AJ giggled.

"You  _seriously_  should have got yourself looked at while we were at the hospital."

"Well, I've come to something of an epiphany," he began with a certain note of grandeur, staring thoughtfully across the room.

"A sort of 'do unto others' kind of thing. I've been very lucky in the friends I've made in my life, and very lucky in the way I get away with treating them. Picking up and dropping as and when, thinking I can excuse it all with this 'maverick loner' bullshit. The truth is, I'm a 34-year-old man still acting like an angsty teenager. Just cos no one was there for me growing up, I think it's OK not to be there for anyone else. It's time that stopped, and you're lucky enough to be the first person to meet Phil Brooks 2.0."

He'd just taken apart his very way of living. He'd quoted the fucking Bible as an example of how he sought to behave. He was CM Punk, he didn't change for anyone. A person who required him to change substantially in order to accept him wasn't worth knowing at all, that was what he had always said. But then there was her. If anything proved to him how different, how strong his feelings were towards her compared with anybody else, this anomaly was it.

"Wow, Punkers, that's real deep," said AJ, maintaining an tone of irreverence but evidently taken aback by this uncharacteristic piece of self-analysis.

"I didn't even get this morning right," he then lamented.

"Didn't even bring you a gift."

Punk gestured in the direction of the presents he'd been given to pass on to her when he returned to the hospital that morning. Dolph had given her a tubular piece of fabric in his trademark pink to wear over her cast when she accompanied him to the ring. The idea of Dolph staying up trimming and sewing like a housewife was both amusing and heartwarming to her. Big E had brought her a bagel as intimated, together with a home-made card, the cover of which was made up of a photograph of the former powerlifter himself striking an threatening pose and the words 'GET BETTER' in bold capitals. The inscription inside simply read: _'Dear Miss AJ, Sorry you are so puny and breakable, E x.'_  If this had happened twelve months ago she would no doubt have been showered with gifts and goodwill. Not any more. The plane carrying the rest of the roster was probably alive with talk of karma and 'what goes around comes around.' But that didn't matter. Not when she still had friends like this.

"You didn't need a gift. Just being there for me was enough," she said, beaming warmly at him.

"My mere presence is a gift in itself? You know, with comments like that, it's no wonder I have an ego!" he grinned.

"Phil, I'm serious. Thanks."

She put her right arm behind his neck, and stretched the other to his far shoulder as she leant against him. He reciprocated by gently squeezing her front against his side with his left. God did it feel good to have her this close to him, even in this most innocent of ways. Her scent filling his nostrils, her hair tickling his chin, her hand gripping him tightly, the little hum of pleasure she let out when she felt his arm around her. It was ridiculous, he could have anyone he wanted within reason, but this simple, brief, innocuous gesture of affection from AJ brought him to life more than anything more intimate with any other woman possibly could. And then he heard it, the simulated pop of a flashbulb. His gaze snapped upwards just in time to see a girl of about fifteen scampering giddily away looking very happy indeed, 'squeeing', he believed they called it, as she looked down at her handiwork on the screen of her phone.

"Fuck," he murmured aghast.

"What?" AJ questioned, separating herself from him and furrowing her brow.

"Our private moment of friendship may be about to add some pretty potent fuel to thousands of pubescent fantasies."

AJ blinked quickly, puzzled. But then she heard the gleeful shrieks as the group of girls clustered around the phone, babbling animatedly between none-to-discreet glances in her and Punk's direction. Oh dear.

"Yep," Punk sighed.

"The joke's over, it's finally happened. I believe we've just made the 'Punklee Nation's year."

"Bugger!" she cursed. It was oddly appropriate to use an expression she'd borrowed from Wade at this moment.

As AJ frustratedly massaged her forehead with her thumb and index finger, Punk gave a smug smile and a nod to the group of girls, prompting yet more shrieking and flailing. He was part-playing along, part-delighted at how unbelievably well everything was working out. He couldn't wait to see how Wade dealt with this, or rather, how he'd fail to deal with it. This wouldn't be the last time AJ was in his arms the coming weeks, he'd make sure of that.

 


	18. Doubt

_'It's nothing. She loves you. She loves you. It's nothing'_

If these words were going to stem the flow of paranoia in his mind, surely they would have done so by now. He knew nothing had happened, that wasn't the issue. Nothing ever would without her making a clean break with him first, he could trust her on that. But in his buckling, worn-down mind that now seemed a very realistic possibility.

Ever since he and AJ got together, Wade had always feared the influence of CM Punk. There was a certain fondness in any mention she made of him that wasn't there for her other male friends. Even though much of her ruminations on Punk's character came down on the side of criticism, it was the kind of ridicule that only came with intimate knowledge and understanding of a person and a deep-running affection that would remain in the face of all but the worst betrayals of trust.

They were so alike, everyone could see it. The same hard-knock urban American upbringings that a man from semi-rural England couldn't even begin to relate to, the same against-the-odds success stories that had inspired thousands of die-hard devotees the world over. Wade always felt guilty and intensely awkward at having so little to add in any discussion of AJ's main cultural passions. He'd barely read a comic book in his life. Most sci-fi and horror movies blurred into one in his mind. Punk could talk for hours on those subjects. No doubt they'd had many eager discussions of that nature during their fortnight away together. Their abundant on-screen chemistry had come from a very real place, and for a time it had been considered a nailed-on certainty by the locker room gossipers that life would imitate art. Now Wade thanked heaven that hadn't happened, and prayed it never would.

Although, as far as the internet was concerned, it already had. He'd looked at that picture almost every day since he first saw it. He couldn't help himself. God did that grungey little twat look pleased at having her on his arm like that. And she... Wade thought that was a look she only gave to him. A look of extreme comfort and contentment, and, it could thus be inferred, love. Whether she realised it yet or not. He couldn't let that feeling ferment. He needed to remind her what they had, what she would be walking away from.

The hotel room door slowly began to open and in she came, back hunched as she pulled along the bulging case that was almost as tall as her. Wade smiled fondly as she struggled, too proud to ask for help as ever. He'd missed her so much. He just hoped she'd missed him too.

"You hauled that all the way up here? With one working hand? I did offer to meet you in the lobby..." he began with amused incredulity.

"Well, I won't be able to hit the gym for a while, I've got to maintain these six-inch pythons somehow," she joked.

"And I did have some assistance, Phil..."

At yet another mention of that name Wade raised his arms in resignation.

"Sorry, I should have guessed," he sighed.

"Will he be coming back later to tuck you in?"

Great. She'd been back for a minute and a half and he'd already potentially talked himself into an argument. If he hadn't been in the midst of obsessing over her and Punk's rediscovered rapport when she came in perhaps he would have been better at holding his tongue, but that torturous mindset had only just begun its descent back into the depths of his consciousness and this was all it took for it to resurface. He glanced pensively at her, waiting to see her face harden, her fists (or the one she could move at any rate) ball up, but it didn't happen. She laughed. She sat on the bed, threw her head back and laughed.

"You're  _jealous_ , aren't you," she squeaked as the chuckles subsided.

"Well, it's just..." he began skittishly.

"That's so cute. But totally unfounded. I mean,  _him_? Seriously?" he'd dodged a bullet. She saw it all as some big joke so it was definitely in his interests to play it off as a minor, unconscious concern.

"You can't blame me for being a little miffed, sweetheart. Every time I called it was 'me and Phil' this, 'Phil said' that..."

"Well you and Kaitlyn were on the other tour, Sasha seems to have decided she's not worthy of my friendship no matter how much I try and tell her otherwise, I wasn't exactly spoilt for choice," she said, twirling her hair round her finger irritably.

"You certainly seem to enjoy his company," Wade muttered darkly. He couldn't laugh this off no matter how much he wanted to.

"Well yeah, he's a friend. But, he's very much in the murkiest depths of the friendzone, no matter what the Tumblr teens may like to think."

She still wasn't angry, however. Concerned, yes, almost pitying in fact. Suddenly she joined him on his feet.

"Phil's a nice guy, he's good to hang out with and talk nerdy with every once in a while. However, he's also genetically programmed to let you down, something of a hypocrite, and a compulsive self-mythologiser."

Wade felt like enthusiastically exclaiming 'exactly!' but managed to register nothing more than an appreciative raise of his eyebrows.

Next thing he knew she was making slow, slinky strides towards him. Her good hand roved its way across his chest and biceps. The pace of her speech dropped to that slow, infinitely suggestive tempo he so enjoyed.

"He's also about six inches too short, thirty pounds too light, 100% too un-British, a terrible, terrible kisser, I could go on..."

"Please do..." Wade smirked.

"Or, I could shut up, you could help me off with these because it's very difficult to undress one-handed and look sexy, and we could get down to some sweet, lethargic jet-lagged loving," AJ sneered wickedly.

"Oh, you make it sound so appealing," he chortled and began to enthusiastically remove her shirt.

* * *

Wade stared at the ceiling, with his hands between the pillow and his head. AJ was curled up beside him ostensibly asleep. While nothing quite compared to the first time in terms of sentiment and occasion, from a physical point of view their sex had only got better and better as time wore on and they developed an understanding for each other's bodies and preferences. However, there was something profoundly...  _off..._  about tonight. The way she had instigated it wasn't half as natural as usual, like she was desperate to prove something too him after their discussion of Punk, like she couldn't shrug it off because it wasn't the non-issue she attempted to paint it as.

All of the primal lust and affection that normally drove her was replaced by an uncharacteristic showiness and exhibitionism, almost like she was on trial and being more demonstrative would assuage his doubts. It didn't. He was more worried now than ever. He didn't believe her.

AJ wasn't asleep. She couldn't sleep. Not after that. She didn't want to say anything to him, not with suspicion already dancing around his head, but that was not how it was done. She'd never even had to think about what she was doing before when they were in bed together, it just happened, they simply clicked, tonight she'd felt like she needed to stage a performance in order for everything to not just fizzle out. How he'd held her; he was usually so gentle, tonight he was like a man clinging for dear life onto a cliff edge. There was so much desperation in his every move, she could tell he wasn't comfortable either. And it had hurt. It had never hurt before.

The way he'd spoke to her, he'd been more vocal than ever tonight. All stressed possessives; ' _my_  April', ' _my_ sweetheart'. It wasn't in the slightest bit romantic, just unsettling. At his moment of climax he'd pulled her so tightly against him she felt like her ribs would cave in. 'Never forget how much I love you,' he'd said. No matter how he tried to deny it, he thought the end was imminent if he didn't take drastic action to labour this point in the hope it would steer her away from Punk. Her words were not enough. He didn't believe her.

 


	19. Disintegration

"Since when could you two not just talk to each other about these things?" Kaitlyn questioned exasperatedly.

"This isn't like any other problem we've had thus far," AJ stressed.

"If there's one emotion he'll never admit to, it's fear. Maybe it's some male pride thing, I don't know, but Wade Barrett isn't scared of anything according to Wade Barrett. Plus it means he doesn't trust me, and he doesn't want to admit that either."

"Assert yourself, corner him, bar the door until he admits it. Didn't he get the memo? A real man circa 2013 is open about his feelings," piped up Renee Young, who was preparing to conduct an interview segment with the two on-screen rivals.

"It's not that simple," AJ sighed.

"Works for me," Renee shrugged.

"You're married, it's different," AJ said flatly.

"How exactly?"

"Dunno, just is. Wives get their husbands to do things that girlfriends simply can't with their boyfriends," Kaitlyn put in. AJ always got a childish thrill from them playfully ganging up together in conversations like this.

"So what are you gonna do?" asked Renee.

"It's evidently driving you... ahem, y'know."

"Well, one thing's for sure, I'm not..." AJ began, before Kaitlyn loudly exclaimed 'hey Phil!' to alert her to a new presence in the room, and that it was time to drop this topic.

"Good evening, ladies," CM Punk smiled. In his hand were three DVDs, which he then thrust under AJ's nose.

"And what are these?" she questioned with pleasant intrigue.

"The Hammer Horror holy trinity, as promised. Although let me stress once again how appalled I am you call yourself a horror movie fan and haven't seen them."

"They're a little before my time."

"Hey, they're before my time too," he protested.

"Yeah, but only just!" she grinned.

"Oh, looks like we're up," Renee interjected as a crew member beckoned to them from the corridor.

"Just so we get this clear, you're catfighting stage right, giving me a chance to exit stage left. Got it? Don't want you falling on me."

"Well, time to slap the hell out of my best friend. I love my job," AJ beamed at Punk.

"Thanks for these, I'll see you later."

"No problem. See you around, kiddo," Punk was going to leave it there, but then out of the corner of his eye he saw the tall figure in the doorway. This would be a waste of a perfect opportunity to stir things up. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek. A perfectly innocent and proportionate gesture, but one that was sure to send a certain Brit's blood pressure skyrocketing.

As the girls passed by Wade, AJ gave her boyfriend a peck of her own. Punk saw the grimace begin to form, which turned into a full-blown snarl replete with dagger-eyes as soon as they were alone. This was it. The showdown. Punk readied himself. This was going to take all of his skill as an antagonist. Everything that made him such a capable villain in front of the cameras. He knew he could get the response he wanted out of Wade, from the look on the man's face he was half-way there already. Punk still hated himself somewhere in his mind, but the sweetness of the reward and how close it may now be negated the influence of any such thoughts.

"What?" he growled tauntingly with his trademark smirk.

"You know what," Wade spat back curtly.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. So please, humour me..."

"You and April."

"What? Me and my good friend who I'd known for several years before you decided to notice her existence? Who I have a hell of a lot of common ground with? Is she not allowed male friends anymore? That doesn't sound like a man who's secure in his relationship to me. Sounds a little like a guy who's hanging by a thread."

Wade squared up to him. So far so good, and Punk was fairly sure he still had a major ace in the hole.

"Don't play the 'just friends' card with me, mate. I've seen how you look at her. You've always wanted her, haven't you?" Wade said, towering over Punk and backing him into the wall, but failing to remove the expression of knowing confidence from his face. Now was the time.

"What's to say I haven't already had her?" he smiled, his eyes aglow with sadistic relish.

"What?"

"What's to say, that well before you came along, me and your precious April weren't very intimate indeed?"

"She wouldn't," Wade spluttered, more in reassurance to himself than denial.

"Of course, I knew it!" Punk announced in triumph.

"Of course she's never told you. She'd never tell anyone. Sweet little April let her halo slip in one desperate moment. Maybe I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. It didn't feel like that, oh no, it didn't sound like that either. 'Oh Phil! Oh, I want you, Phil! Don't stop, Phil!'"

The veins were bulging in Wade's neck now, a few more choice jibes and he was going to blow.

"If you're trying to get a rise out of me it's not going to work," he said in a tone that belied the fact Punk had already accomplished this.

"I'd say I've pushed you about as far as you can go. Haven't I, Wadey?" Punk snarled. Dropping the pet name was an exquisite touch, he thought.

"She really is a little spark plug, isn't she? And kinky as hell, I couldn't believe it..."

"You shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you!" Wade bellowed, his voice cracking, sounding more afraid than threatening, knowing Punk was one specific detail away from proving this audacious, hurtful claim was in fact the truth. Punk leant into his ear, and in a harsh, barbed whisper, simply intoned:

"That birth mark, kind of anvil-shaped, middle-left on her right ass cheek. You believe me now, don't you?"

That should do it. Punk braced himself.

Wade's universe rocked on its pivot. No way could Punk have come up with that off the top of his head. Why didn't she tell him? Why would her one indulgence in promiscuity be with Punk if there were not more to it than a moment of madness? Maybe it wasn't her only one night stand. Could he really trust anything she'd said anymore? The images Punk had implanted in his head hurtled inexorably around his brain. The thing he worst feared, the thing he dreaded and would do anything to prevent, had already happened. He could have lived with never knowing. Maybe even he could have lived with her telling him if somehow it was couched in terms that put him unquestioningly at ease that it was nought but a desperate mistake. But she hadn't told him. This man had. In the cruelest, most indulgent terms possible. And now he was going to beat the living hell out of him.

Next thing, a vicious right hook sent the smaller man tumbling. Boot after boot rained down on his chest as Wade cycled through every expletive he knew. Punk sat up at one point, briefly, only to be knocked down by another thunderous right that busted him open. Any minute now, Punk thought to himself. Any minute...

"Stuart, what are you doing?!" AJ rushed over to her boyfriend, who showed no relent in his assault.

"Stop, for God's fucking sake, stop!" instinctively he threw his arm back, not thinking about who it was, and how even a small swing of his gargantuan limb may impact upon them. His elbow met her square in the face and she crumpled onto the floor with a yelp.

"April!" Kaitlyn's anxious shout snapped him from his trance, and for the first time he became fully aware of the situation. Punk's face was a bloody mess, his smile long gone as he writhed in pain. He couldn't care less about that, but then he turned around. She was bleeding too. And crying. That awful, awful noise. And it was all his fault.

"Jesus Christ. I'm so sorry, poppet," he breathed, kneeling down beside her prone form.

"Don't call me that!" she shrilled tearfully. The lovely name he saved for his most poignant moments of romance or reassurance. It had no place here and now.

"You and him... Why didn't you tell me?" he questioned softly. Not angry with her, not when she was in this state. He just wished that somehow this horrific scene could have been prevented.

"Because I knew it would end up like this," she panted.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself. It was months ago. He's done nothing wrong. There is nothing between us. But you wouldn't have that, would you? You couldn't take my word for it. That's what you do when you love someone, Stuart, you believe what they say."

There was no way he could disagree with that sentiment. He knew what was coming, the wonderful thing that had enriched his life immeasurably unravelling before him through his own belligerence. He looked into her eyes, vainly hoping for them to soften, to give some note of forgiveness or understanding. It never came. The fear remained in them. Fear of him, the one she looked to for protection and comfort. This was exactly the situation he'd vowed to avoid.

"April..."

"Get the hell away from me!" AJ cried and shoved him with her good arm. She'd dreaded this moment but she couldn't believe it had happened. He said she'd changed him. It made her so happy to hear that. She believed it. She trusted him. What a fool she was.

"April, please, I..."

"I distinctly heard the lady tell you to leave, Barrett," Punk murmured hazily from across the floor. God did Wade want to hit him again, to shut him up for good. But that would only make things worse. Though the idea that anything could be worse than this...

He got to his feet, and locked eyes with Kaitlyn. He'd been shot many dirty looks in his time but this was among the dirtiest. Complete and utter revulsion. She slapped him. He knew she'd hit him with all her considerable might but he still barely felt it. He was almost totally numb.

"You're just as big a piece of shit as you ever were," Kaitlyn snarled as he finally found the door. The second he was out of sight of the room he leant back against the wall of the corridor and slid down to the cold tiles.

Ten minutes ago Wade Barrett had everything he ever wanted. Now he'd lost it all. The girl he loved so unbelievably much had majorly misled him, yes, but that didn't excuse what he'd done. The man he tried so hard not to be, the man he knew she wouldn't accept him as, had reared his most ugly of heads and hurt her, hurt one of her closest friends, and hurt himself. Why should she accept him? He was a monster. A neanderthal. A fighter and nothing more. He should never have convinced himself otherwise.

 


	20. Realisation

_'Can you believe it's all paid off? God I wish I could see his face right now!'_

_'Just because I went through with it doesn't mean I'm any less disgusted by the whole thing than I was in the beginning. This is the most evil of necessary evils'_

_'Oh save your high and mighty bullshit! The point is you did it. You got your girl and I got my revenge'_

_'I don't want to talk about this ever again, Alicia. Got it? Stay away from me and from April'_

_'I don't need the warning, Philip. You're none of my concern now, thank God. You and your little mouse have a nice life together'_

Punk hoped that in time the circumstances through which he and AJ came to be together would fade into irrelevance. The fact he had consorted with that bitter, twisted woman, that he had stooped to her level and destroyed the life of a man whose only crime was to fall for the same girl as himself. But he knew the truth of the situation, it was either Wade or him. They couldn't both have AJ, and neither could be even close to content with their lot if it didn't include her. Convincing her that there was no future in that relationship was the only way he could have done it.

If only he'd acted on his impulses before she accumulated all of this baggage. For so long she had been there for the taking and he'd told himself no. But back then he wasn't ready to be the man she wanted. He hadn't realised the deficiencies in his character and lifestyle that had prevented her from considering him anything more than a friend. It was ugly, it was duplicitous, it was completely messed up, but this was how it had to be.

Three weeks had now passed since Wade's backstage conflagration, and in that time Punk and AJ had been near-inseparable. He'd offered his unconditional support to help her deal with the break-up, while she felt intense and unwarranted guilt for causing him to be subject to the brutality that was dealt to him on that night. He'd quite quickly made his feelings toward her known, or to some degree at least. Proclaiming his love for her was sure to overawe the girl and send her running, but he'd told her in no uncertain terms that when she was ready to move on he wanted it to be with him. She hadn't said yes yet, but she hadn't said no either and this evening's events made him cautiously optimistic that he was on the precipice of a breakthrough.

After the show they'd headed back to her hotel room as they now so often did, watched a DVD, played a little Xbox, anything that helped her unwind after the stress of putting her game face on for the cameras while inside she still ached with loss and disillusionment. He'd bade her goodnight and prepared to head back to his bus as per usual, but she'd begged him to stay, said she really couldn't face another night alone. He set up camp on the sofa only for her to implore him to join her in the bed, where she fell soundly asleep in his embrace. He could soon get used to this, he thought, as he followed her into slumber.

* * *

Spending the night alone was not something Wade Barrett had been forced to contend with very often in those three weeks. He was somewhat alarmed at the ease with which he was able to revert to his old ways, only this time the drinking was heavier and the sex even more meaningless and perfunctory. It did nothing to fill his gaping emotional void but at least his physical needs were being satiated. His 'man about town' persona still fit him like a glove, even with all the turmoil that was now going on behind the facade. Somehow, 'Stuart' was always able to lock 'Wade' away for the evening, tell him this was the way he was always supposed to be and love was something he was simply not wired for. In the morning his reformed state of mind would return, reminding him that the best thing in his life was gone and the fault was overwhelmingly his own, but when the sun went down his defences went up and he could keep his emptiness and self-disgust at bay for as long as it took to secure himself a warm body.

Tonight was different, however. No fawning fangirl who he would be leaving far behind come tomorrow never to see again. He'd taken all he could of that, even in his present state of disarray he still maintained the self-worth to be determined not to become one of 'those guys'. If he assumed that primal, unthinking, unfeeling mindset on this occasion, the guilt and the stories would follow him wherever he went. He needed to make an effort, this was his first real test to see if he really had it in him to properly move on.

Summer Rae had recently been called up from NXT to appear as Fandango's dance partner. Tall, blonde, forthright, fashion-conscious and unashamedly assured of her own sensuality, she was about as far removed from AJ as it were possible to be. The kind of girl he always considered as his 'type' before a diminutive, bashful, nerdy New Jerseyan proved him wrong. They'd chatted backstage over the course of the past few shows. Her mother was English, which gave them instant basis for conversation. They also shared an enjoyment of post-show revelry, and she'd enthusiastically taken him up on his offer to sample what Bowling Green, Kentucky had to offer. Not all that much, so rather unsurprisingly proved to be the case, but as the alcohol flowed and their inhibitions dissipated, their surroundings became increasingly irrelevant.

"Did you not find it demeaning, playing football in your knickers?" he enquired with a grin. He'd very quickly earmarked Summer's past life as one of the top stars of the Lingerie Football League as ripe for flirtatious banter.

"Well, do you find it demeaning wrestling in what amounts to a particularly figure-hugging pair of briefs?" she shot back.

"Touché," he laughed, finishing the last of his wine with a long, hearty swig.

"Well, that's about all that I can handle, both of alcohol and of the stares we've been getting. Probably because we're the only people here from outside of a very narrow gene pool. Hotel?"

"Most definitely," Summer nodded with the unintentional vigorousness of someone beginning to lose control of their physical actions.

"I've never seen someone so blatantly trying to look up my dress as that guy over there."

"I should teach him some of the more subtle methods that I've been deploying throughout the evening," replied Wade, prompting a dig in the arm so accidentally forceful she nearly fell from her seat in delivering it.

"Even when you're being crude that accent makes it seem charming and sophisticated," giggled Summer. She slid down from the stool onto her feet, instantly appearing dazed and uneasy.

"Oh God, headrush! Headrush and heels, not a good combination!" she groaned and tottered forward. Wade held out his arm to steady her and guide her back to a stable base. Now seemed as good a time as any to make the move. He leaned in and gave her what felt like a smooth, dexterous kiss, but on sober reflection was probably a lot sloppier and more awkward. They smiled knowing, hungry smiles at one another.

"I have a feeling you won't have to make do with stolen glances up my dress this evening, Mr Barrett," she said.

* * *

AJ rolled over and looked at the clock. 2AM. She'd only managed an hour and a half before it happened, this was the worst yet. The whole reason she wanted Punk there that night. But now, having woken up in a textbook cold sweat yet again, she was embarrassed to alert him to her plight. She'd given him enough trouble already.

The weeks since her and Wade went their separate ways had been utterly surreal. Never had she been so unsure of her true feelings, never before had her own mind felt so alien. She still loved him, of course she did, and she was all too aware that at a time like this he'd know exactly what to do to ease her worries. She imagined him sat next to her, cup of tea in hand, listening patiently into the small hours as she told him of her woes, then tying her snugly to his chest with his arms as she drifted back off to sleep.

But then she remembered the terrifying transformation, the seething rage smothering all his tolerance and tenderness as she had seen it do on one too many occasions. The blunt ferocity of his voice, the thud of his fist against any inanimate object that happened to be in the way. The total lack of control she felt over the situation. She thought of walking in to that room, of Punk, who had been so unbelievably good to her during their time in Europe, stricken on the ground at the mercy of this vicious thug. How could that man be the love of her life?

She remembered his elbow crashing into her mouth, unintentionally of course but still the inevitable consequence of his reckless furore. The taste of her own blood, the look on his face, like he'd awoken from some trance, entered some Mr Hyde-esque altered state which he had no way of suppressing. She couldn't possibly feel safe with someone like that, could she? All this talk of him being a changed man was just sweet nothings, that animalistic streak would always be there. He was 90% of the way to being all she could ever want in a lover, but that remaining 10% would never go away, and she could never learn to live with it.

And then there was Punk. She'd be lying if she said she'd never considered if something good could work between them. The physical attraction had always been there, to add to their many shared interests, but the rational part of her mind knew that the consistency and mutual dependence she required from a relationship was something Punk, a free spirit and proud of it, would never be able to provide. His freewheeling would be sure to drive her to despair. But now... he barely left her side, no matter when or what. He'd told her in no uncertain terms, he wanted to be there for her in every way. She'd been touched, she'd been tempted to give in to his advances right there and then, but once again her innate pragmatism reigned her in. Her mental state was altering markedly on an almost daily basis at the moment, and taking Punk for a ride after all he'd done for her was the last thing she wanted to do. All she could say was 'give me time.'

She shifted uncomfortably in Punk's arms, wanting space to breath and restore order in her racing mind, but she was desperate not to wake him. This confliction caused her to let out a frustrated groan. To her shock, her companion's eyes snapped open, he really wasn't joking when he said he was a light sleeper. He gave her a fond smile and tightened his grip around her. She desperately wanted to return the smile, send him back to sleep none the wiser about her angst, but her facial muscles were rebelling against her.

"You OK, kiddo?" he questioned. She couldn't help herself. It was one of her chief weaknesses, the instant she was shown any compassion in a situation like this, the opportunity to unload her mental burden proved too good to pass up. As did the chance to shed a tear or two. So much for not wanting to worry him.

She tried to articulate her troubles but only succeeded in blubbing. She watched his face crease with panic and concern. He really did care about her a lot.

"Hey, hey... that's not what we wanna see," Punk said softly, bringing her in closer still so her head was right against his chest. He began rubbing his hands across her back. The sensation was more irritating than reassuring, her shirt chafing against her bare skin. She couldn't help but think how Wade would approach this; lightly stroking her hair, placing gentle kisses on her cheekbone and at the corner of her eye. It never failed to calm her down, often before the first tear had even fallen. She could always ask Punk to do those things, but the intuition was part of what made it so comforting. She'd never had to ask Wade, even the first time. He worked it out for himself, he just knew.

"Listen, I know it hurts now, but it's for the best," he continued, chin rested atop her forehead as they continued to lie beside one another.

"You don't want to risk being put through that kind of crap again, do you?"

She shook her head limply. She had at least give him some positive feedback for trying.

"Everthing's gonna be fine, princess."

Princess? Seriously? For some reason the word made her unfeasibly uncomfortable. Punk's obvious unease was taking his vocabulary in very uncharacteristic directions once again. It was as if he was terrified of not knowing what to say, of not being able to get her to stop. But she couldn't tell him his tactics weren't working, what he should be doing instead. The man was trying his hardest to make her feel better. But it just wasn't enough. It would never be enough, and this growing realisation was only deepening her upset.

Harder and harder she cried. God, why was she still crying? He'd spent his life comforting girls, he liked to think he was something of an expert. He'd been prepared for such a situation when she asked him to stay, but this was not how he envisioned it transpiring. In his mind, he'd hold her, stop her crying, she'd realise that he was the one she could count on to make it all better and that would be that. Relationship on. But that seemed a long way from happening. His frustration continued to grow, not to mention the guilt of knowing a situation he had engineered was responsible. He realised the amount of stock he'd placed in the assumption that he would be able to relieve the pain his plan couldn't help but cause her.

"Will you please stop? What's done is done, you've got to move on," oh dear. He didn't intend it to come out like that, no matter how accurately it reflected the desperation in his mind.

She lifted herself up from the pillow and gave him a look of distraught shock.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh, but it's the only way through these things. You can't dwell on them forever."

"Three weeks isn't forever."

"It's long enough. He doesn't deserve your tears."

"...He does though," now it was AJ's turn to be shocked at what had just come out of her mouth. That creeping realisation was now fully grown and flowering.

"He was perfect, Phil..."

"Perfect?!" Punk scythed across her suddenly.

"April, the man beat me to a bloody pulp because we hugged each other a few times and slept together once when he had jack shit to do with you. Do you want to live your life like that?"

"He won't do it again," she said with the certainty that had been eluding her these past few weeks.

"If it means holding on to me, he won't do it again."

"How the fuck do you know? It didn't exactly seem like he had all that much control in the matter," Punk was aware his delicate words of pacification had given way to foul-mouthed fighting talk, but he could feel her slipping from his grasp, both literally and figuratively as she shifted further onto her side of the bed. This was crisis point, he had to talk her out of this somehow.

"He'd do anything for me. He  _did_  everything for me. Everything I needed. Everything I'll always need."

"Oh God, listen to yourself, you're delirious. Drop all the mushy melodrama and wake up, April, I'm begging you. You'll be calling him your soulmate next," Punk replied with a scoff.

That all but settled it. They were on two very different wavelengths indeed. He couldn't be there for her. It was unfair to expect him to be. She should never have thought he could be. What had she done? She sat bolt upright, trembling, moving frantically to her feet. How had she let this happen? They weren't supposed to be sharing a bed. It should never have happened six months ago and it should never have happened that night. There was only one person who should have to put up with her in this state, and he was somewhere in this building.

"Where are you going?" Punk asked pensively, pulling his back up against the headboard. AJ hurriedly pulled a pair of jeans on under her nightshirt and grabbed her purse.

"April, wait! I didn't mean to offend you, I apologise..."

"You've nothing to apologise for, Phil," she sobbed.

"Believe me, I wasn't trying to lead you on. Thanks so much for doing all you could, but this... this can't happen. I've made a terrible mistake and I hope to God I'm not too late to put it right. You can stay here if you want. All being well I won't be back til after you've gone in the morning."

She moved towards the door, Punk's eyes widened in dread. Her heart was almost out of his reach, probably for good.

"But I... I love you," he was aware of how pathetic he sounded. It was his last throw of the dice, a desperation move if ever there was one.

AJ felt like she was going to throw up right there and then. How could she have allowed things to get this far?

"You  _love me_?" she repeated breathily.

"Yes..." Punk bowed his head and gave an almighty sigh, almost deflating with the weight of his secret having lifted.

"Ever since... Well, I don't know. A very long time. I just couldn't... I wish I hadn't said anything."

"Oh Phil... I'm so, so sorry," AJ lamented despairingly.

"Maybe in another life..."

"Please..." Punk's voice was beginning to crack as he interjected, he sounded more vulnerable and wounded than she'd ever heard him before.

"I don't need your pity, just... go to him. Do what you need to do. I don't blame you for anything."

"You're a good man, Philip Brooks."

"That's what you think."

AJ wished she could console him further, but she didn't want to heap any more woe upon him. He'd told her to go, and that was what she had to do. Bring this whole regretful episode to a close. She'd had her suspicions about how deep his feelings for her ran, but it wasn't the sort of question one asked on a hunch. She just hoped she'd nipped things in the bud early enough for him to have more luck in moving on from her than she had from Wade.

The door shut, he heard her sniffles and whimpers as she made her way along the corridor. A rare, lone tear ran down his cheek. He'd sacrificed his morals, his conscience and his heart for nothing, targeted a man who'd never posed him any ill will whatsoever and wrought horrendous sorrow upon him. All in the vain hope the woman he loved would feel the same, that somehow he could mould himself into who she wanted. He realised now, he'd probably realised all along somewhere in his mind, that things just didn't work like that. He needed to find some way of putting this most fierce of desires among the many things he had wanted in life but was resigned to never having.

He prayed everyone involved would understand the situation he was in, why he'd engaged in such dark practices and fraternised with the most warped and vindictive of minds. If AJ didn't have it in her heart to love him, he just hoped she'd have room to forgive him once the truth came out.

 


	21. Reunion

_"Wade, it's me. I really, really need to talk. I'm so sorry, I... I totally understand if you won't speak to me, I know it's rich after ignoring you for so long, but please... just tell me where you are and I'll come. I need you."_

AJ's mind pirouetted with increasing velocity and the need to erase the hideous mistake that had been the past three weeks intensified. She knew she had no time for anyone but Wade. She couldn't focus on anything or anyone else until she knew the whole one night stand revelation and its aftermath could be consigned to the ether.

Why hadn't he picked up? It was 2AM, sure, but she knew that with a whole day to deal with the repercussions a quiet night in would not be on his agenda. She'd heard the stories, of the hard-drinking, girl-chasing, devil-may-care Wade Barrett returning with a vengeance. At first she viewed it as further evidence that she'd made the right decision, but now she was racked with guilt about forcing him back into that way of life having shown him something so much more meaningful and rewarding. Every other woman that went before meant nothing as soon as she became his, that was what he'd told her. One of the over-sentimental proclamations he was prone to, the ones she teased him about but was inwardly elated to hear.

In the weeks since their separation she'd dismissed it as empty words, how could someone who felt that way about her repeatedly allow himself to behave in a way that upset and frightened her so much? Now in the wake of her change of heart it became clear to her that everything about his behaviour toward her reinforced the truth of this statement. It was the reason he could be so patient and understanding with her when she flew into one of her panics, while Punk clearly could not. But the panic would not be over until she knew for sure their weeks apart hadn't caused Wade to have his own re-evaluation of his emotions.

_"It's April again. Please pick up. I'll make all of this up to you, I promise. I'm just... I'm scared... I feel like I'm losing my mind. Give me a chance to fix this. I love you."_

She checked the time on her phone. Seven minutes since her last message. Pathetic. Thank heaven the corridor had remained deserted. The prospect of someone seeing her in this state, having to answer their questions, maybe even having to absorb barbs and mockery, added yet another tortuous dimension to her disquiet. The jubilant, no doubt intoxicated bellow of voices rang out from the far end of the hall. AJ froze to the spot, mulling over how she could go about hiding her distress. She couldn't. She prayed it was no one she knew, or at least someone who would show her a modicum of sympathy. The voices were female, so if they did belong to some of her colleagues the chances of being taken pity on were rather slim.

Three instantly-identifiable figures rounded the corner in the distance. Natalya, Layla and Rosa. Not Rosa, not now. AJ's mind was already firing out its own suggestions as to the sneering put-downs that would be directed her way in a minute or two's time. AJ wheeled around, she had no idea where she was going, but she couldn't remain here, and retreating back to her room, back to Punk, would be both humiliating and hypocritical. Before she had chance to focus on the hallway ahead, she felt a thud as she collided with a wall of muscular flesh, just managing to steady herself with an outstretched arm before she hit the floor.

Her gaze worked its way upwards, she pushed herself back to her feet to meet the bemused blue eyes of Drew McIntyre. It wasn't Wade, but if anyone were able to shed light on his whereabouts, it would surely be his best friend.

"Steady on there, lass. Where are you going looking so upset?" he queried, fixing her with a look of concerned confusion. He always looked a little confused when they spoke. Emotionally he and Wade were very different animals and Drew seemed to find her rather difficult to relate to. But he was always nice enough to try and in dire straits such as these that would have to be enough. The giggles behind her got closer, and she prickled with the paranoia that she may have been the butt of whatever joke was being shared.

"Not... not here," she said softly and looked pleadingly at him. Glancing over her shoulder at the trio advancing on them, Drew nodded in acknowledgement and beckoned to the door of his room, which he had been about to open until AJ clattered into him.

He guided her in with his arm draped lightly around her shoulder. She heard Rosa mutter some catty aside at this sight, sparking more laughter from her companions as they passed. It didn't matter, she was safe now, and hopefully moments away from being able to quell the ache that plagued her.

* * *

On the floor above, another room door swung open. Wade stumbled across the threshold back-first, Summer's lips stuck fast to his own. She released herself from his grip and took in her surroundings.

"Damn!" she exclaimed with an impressed whistle.

"What do you have to do to get one of these to yourself?"

"Well, it took two years for them to stop sticking me in with the Scotsman," Wade smiled ruefully.

"Drew sings in his sleep, you know? Like, proper belts them out like he were onstage at Wembley. Not that..."

His words slowly ran dry at the sight unfolding before him. She certainly wasn't backward in coming forward, as they said in England.

"At least leave something for me to take off," he implored, grinning.

"I'm not one for foreplay, darling, and if I wanted to talk we'd have stayed at the bar," Summer smirked with an enticing lick of her lips, before giving a decidedly inebriated-sounding chuckle and falling backwards onto the bed, whether deliberately or not Wade did not know. They were probably both about one drink away from being physically incapable of achieving their aims.

He undressed as quickly as his faltering co-ordination would allow and dived on top of her, lowering into another kiss as she sunk her fingers into his hair. If this was the bad times, if this was his life going to seed, then he was a very lucky man indeed.

* * *

AJ dabbed her eyes with the hem of her nightshirt. She'd just finished relaying her predicament. Drew had been able to offer little clue as to his friend's whereabouts beyond 'probably still out somewhere' but she'd welcomed the opportunity to voice her anguish. Drew remained silent throughout, save for the odd exclamation of surprise. She was amazed how little he seemed to know about the circumstances that had pulled her and Wade apart. She was aware their friendship was hardly akin to her and Kaitlyn's in terms of emotional transparency, but nonetheless the idea that people so close to one another would not communicate any more than the basic details of life-altering events baffled her. Men were a strange breed.

"I just hope he can forgive me the way I'm willing to forgive him," she finished, giving a heavy, full-bodied sigh.

Drew paused. And paused. She began to feel cruel for putting him in this position.

"You don't need to say anything, you've been a great help regardless," she said encouragingly with a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly to her shock, he clasped said hand with his own and looked purposefully into her eyes.

"I'm not always the most emotionally perceptive person," he began, before adding with a wry grin: "Just ask my ex-wife..."

"...but even I can see that there's almost nothing you could do to that man that would stop him loving you. You could run over his cat, then smash his signed twelve-inch of Gold Against the Soul, then punch Sir Tom Finney right in his 90-year-old face and he'd still think you were the most divine creature to walk this Earth."

For the first time since awakening half an hour ago, AJ lit up with a smile. She knew how important all those things were to Wade, and Drew's mention of them was causing fond memories to flood her mind, his words of reassurance diluting and destroying her fear.

"The bloke never fucking shut up about you for the last three months. He was using all these words he'd never have been caught dead saying when we first met. And that was when he was sober. When he'd had a few, Jesus..."

"Oh, I've received plenty of texts from your boozy excursions, and rest assured I teased him just as much as you did," AJ put in. They shared a laugh, bound by their affection for the subject of their discussion. But it didn't change the fact that neither of them had been able to make contact with him, and while that remained the case, AJ's angst could not fully subside.

"Right, where the fuck is he?" Drew questioned with playful impatience, picking his phone up from the bedside table and feverishly going to work with his thumbs.

"Where've you got to, Barrett, you daft twat?" he murmured absent-mindedly.

"She won't wait forever you know. And if you dare say you would, lass, I reserve the right to roll my eyes and stick my finger down my throat."

* * *

Wade's sense of privilege was growing by the second, comfortably suppressing any feeling of loss or emptiness that attempted to pounce from the margins in his mind. Here he was in the complementary four-star hotel room his dream job had earned him, his expensive wardrobe strewn across the floor, laying back on a king-size bed while a stunning blonde worked wonders upon him with her mouth and hands. It would be conceited and almost immoral not be content with his lot at this very moment.

He watched her working away, her eyes smiling at him each time he let out a moan of pleasure, which he was doing with ever-increasing frequency as she adapted her technique based on the feedback he was giving. She was a fast learner. He didn't want this to stop, but he knew were it to continue for much longer proceedings would come to a very early conclusion, and they were far from done with each other yet. She was just like him; no hang-ups, principles or emotional attachment to factor in, just lust and adventure. It was much simpler this way, this was what came naturally. Love was a failed experiment.

He shifted himself backwards towards the headboard in a seated position, causing her to take the hint and release him.

"Told you I was good at that," Summer grinned proudly. He found her unabashed confidence exhilarating. She didn't need any coaxing or cosseting to let go of her inhibitions, unlike...  _'No, don't even think about her'_  a voice inside his head said firmly.

He leant forward onto his knees, meeting Summer with another deep kiss, hoping that making physical contact with her would plug the leak that was allowing thoughts of AJ to seep into consciousness once again. He lowered her slowly onto her back, her long, shapely legs stretching out either side of him. He pecked his way down her neck to her collarbone as she closed her eyes and gasped in arousal. He shifted his lips down to her right breast quicker than she would be expecting, illiciting a gloriously sharp wail from her throat. He raised his head to make eye contact with her, knowing she'd give him the kind of look his ego was founded upon. However, as he did so, a flash of light in the corner of his vision caused him to divert his attention to the foot of the bed.

He'd intentionally left his phone in the room when he left for his rendezvous with Summer, not wanting any distractions, or reminders. Any time he set eyes on it he was forced to think about the texts and the pictures it contained; the ones that he didn't have it in his heart to delete, the ones he still pored over in his more desperate moments. He couldn't be that man this evening. But instinct had drawn him to the screen, and there was no way he could dismiss what he saw.

_'2 missed calls - April.'_

"What the?" he questioned in disbelief.

"Surely it can wait?" Summer cooed, cupping her hands around his bristly cheeks.

All of a sudden any desire he had to finish what he had started with this woman evaporated. It had been relatively easy to tell himself that this was what he really wanted when there seemed no prospect of reconciliation but now, knowing she'd tried to reach him, his desire to see her, hear her, experience anything that told him she still wanted him in her life, overwhelmed all else. It had been over a week since he'd finally given up on getting through to her after countless texts, calls and knocks upon doors went unanswered. He picked the phone up, reclining back against the headboard, leaving Summer prostrate around him.

"Wade, what the hell?" she questioned incredulously.

"I'm sorry, was I boring you?"

"Shh!" he snapped without thinking. She was but an inconvenience and a distraction as he held the phone to his ear, barely able to contain his anticipation at what AJ had to say.

"Don't you shush me!" shouted Summer, her indignation growing by the second.

"What's so important that it can't..."

The colour drained from Wade's face, his expression changing from wonderment to worry and tension. The altering in his mood wasn't lost on Summer.

"Wade, what's going on?" she asked helplessly.

He had to address her. What he really wanted to do was sprint down the corridor to Drew's room without as much as a bye or leave, but both social etiquette and the amount of alcohol he'd consumed stood in the way of that idea.

"Summer, you're a lovely girl, but we should never have done this..." he began, knowing nothing he could say would result in her being anything other than justifiably livid.

"And you wait til I'm naked and I've sucked your cock for ten minutes before deciding that?" she snarled bluntly.

"Sorry... I wasn't ready... I..."

"Wasn't ready?! You've been screwing your way across America for the past three weeks, but when it's my turn your blood runs all the way to your head for once? Well, isn't that just typical?"

"You've got to go. I guess with all the drink I thought..."

"Oh, I'm going. Don't worry. Fuck you, you fucking fuck!"

With stiff kicks to his stomach accompanying each expletive, Summer then got to her feet and ashen-facedly gathered her clothes together. When she was dressed she picked her bag up from the dresser and gave one last furious, frustrated grunt in his direction before storming out the door. Wade hoped that in the near future they'd be able to have a sober, grown-up discussion and he could somehow explain himself and make it up to her. But that was extremely low on his list of priorities at this point in time.

Three rings.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Had he missed his window? Had her desire for a reunion passed in the time it had taken him to notice she'd tried contacting him? He'd never be able to live with himself if it had.

Seven.

Eight.

"Wade?"

"Yes it's me, sweetheart."

"Where are you? Wherever you are, I..."

"Room 264. See you soon. And just to get things clear: I don't blame you. I still love you. I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say the same thing."

After some hasty rustling the line went dead, he hoped that meant she'd be at the door shortly. He was already fantasising about holding her again, telling her all these feelings that had been corroding his mind over the past month, being honest about who he now was.

* * *

"Thank you so much, Drew," AJ said hurriedly, returning her phone to her purse and standing up from the bed.

"No problem, love. And don't tell him I said this, but I've hated seeing him so cut up these past few weeks. You're good for him, just what he needed," Drew replied, offering her a brisk hug. Once again, the idea that Drew would not want his best friend to know he cared about his feelings made no sense to AJ whatsoever. Men.

She strode impassively along the corridor, feeling a full foot taller. If she encountered Rosa now she'd lay her out with a shining wizard. No one was going to stand in her way. She took the stairs, meaning she was slightly out of breath by the time she reached the door.

He opened it almost instantly.

She savoured being able to look at his face again after weeks of fleeing the scene every time their paths crossed. Bleary-eyed and slightly dishevelled from his evening's entertainment he may have been, but there still wasn't a more handsome sight imaginable to her.

They both went to speak, their words cutting across each other and becoming incomprehensible.

He placed her hands at her sides. Next thing she knew she was being hoisted aloft. As she had infamously done on numerous occasions on-screen, she coiled her legs around his middle with her arms knotting around his neck.

He pushed her hair behind her ear as she continued to beam at him. The smile that he feared would never be directed at him ever again. She was back. She was his. He was still extremely drunk and this was far too much drama and exhilaration for his mind to take.

He flopped down on the chair by the balcony, causing her to land in his lap, burrowing her head into his chest as she so often did. The rest of the world seemed so distant when she was there.

"I thought I'd lost you," he breathed, still not quite able to comprehend that this was really happening.

"You'll never lose me," she replied.

"Other than maybe down the back of the sofa," he grinned, making reference to his commentary on one of her FCW matches all those years ago.

"Just don't put me in a drawer," AJ added with a wink.

"I fucking love you, April Mendez," Wade said with a slight lump in his throat.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me, and that's not just the drink talking."

"You realise it's only ever really drunk people that say that?" she smirked.

"But I fucking love you too, you boozed-up British bastard."

"You know, I can't guarantee there'll never be another time like what happened with Punk," he said apprehensively. He didn't want to go there but his drunken bravado was forcing his hand.

"But you'll try your best," she added sympathetically, caressing his cheek with the delicate touch he'd so sorely missed.

"Of course," he smiled.

"That's all I need to hear," concluded AJ as her lips met his. A little more clumsy and slobbery than she had envisaged their make-up kiss being, but then in her fantasy he didn't reek of cheap wine either.

As AJ and Wade felt their eyes become leaden, collapsing into bed together still intertwined, their thoughts followed eerily similar paths. Both had begun the evening in the company of the opposite sex, seriously considering the possibility of drawing a line under the relationship. Both had quickly been reminded of why that wasn't possible, of how imperfectly perfect they were together, that they had been living a lie for the previous few weeks. And now, reunited at last, they knew they should never be parted. Never before and never again.


	22. Recovery

AJ could have slept forever. All the uncertainty of the last few weeks, the queasy, disorienting feeling of conjecture when she thought about Wade had gone, and with it the barriers that had prevented her from getting a decent rest. But she was determined to go through with her plan, and the thrill of waking up beside him after what may as well have been a lifetime had spurred her on.

She knew she'd wake up well before him. More than once during their time apart in Europe had a phonecall at a perfectly reasonable hour of the morning been greeted by a groggy, disgruntled husk of a man, dragged kicking and screaming from the depths of his cocoon after what he called 'a night on the tiles.' But she knew just what was required to ease his transition into sobriety. The time-honoured remedy for the hungover Englishman.

She felt almost weightless as she headed through the hotel and out into the Kentucky morning. She could have skipped all the way to the deli. Surely Vince would have commended her commitment to kayfabe. Any familiar face she passed in the lobby and on the corridors was met with her patented, butter-wouldn't-melt smile, whether they were likely to reciprocate her warmth or not. She was on cloud nine and she wanted everyone to know it, even those who continued to hold her in contempt.  _Especially_  those who still held her in contempt.

Sadly, the weather did not reflect her mood, and with a few blocks to go on the walk back the heavens opened and she had to take evasive action to the elements to make sure they didn't put a quite literal dampener on her attempt at a surprise. Unfortunately, her choice of jacket only allowed only for one of either the breakfast or her hair to be kept dry.

She returned to the room to find him still snoring away. She perched on one of the chairs, quickly drying her hair off with a towel, watching him. To think she'd nearly thrown it all away, nearly passed on the chance to be able to do this ever again. This man who had come along at precisely the right time and treated her just the way she wanted to be treated, save for those few isolated flashpoints that she'd somehow convinced herself were grounds for writing off their future together. A man who didn't like to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they'd affected him on an emotional level, but made a glaring and absolute exception when it came to his love for her. Someone so caring in such a relaxed, undramatic way, one that never made her feel she was imposing upon him, or that she was weak or foolish for feeling the way she did, for panicking like she was prone to do at times. Times like last night.

She so wished she'd never let it get to that stage, even amidst her joy and relief at being by Wade's side again, her thoughts wandered to Punk, alone and rejected, inevitably blaming himself for not quite being 'good'enough for her when she should never have let him get close enough to believe it even remotely possible. She hoped their friendship would survive this sternest of tests.

But it could have been worse. That was what she had to keep telling herself. Three weeks of absolute stupidity on her part, but only three weeks nonetheless. All was right again now. She had a day off and a boyfriend to rediscover. He'd repeatedly told her an apology was unnecessary, so she wouldn't label this gesture as one, but she had to do something, however small, to mark his return to her life.

She stood over him, contemplating how to wake him up. A kiss? Too cliche. Jumping on him? Too mean. She'd start being mean to him again when things had fully stabilised. She held the paper bag containing the sandwich under his nose, half expecting the aroma to bring him salivating into consciousness. When that didn't happen, she prodded his nose slightly with it. He wrinkled his face, grunted softly and fell still again. So she poked him harder. He jolted his head back, opened his eyes slightly but not enough to focus on anything and gave a murmured 'fuck off' before again returning to inactivity. She stifled a giggle. This was fun. She brought the bag down across his nose again, this time almost striking him. Now he gave a high-pitched hum of perturbed confusion, opened his eyes fully and blinked repeatedly at her, as she clapped her hands together and finally let go of her laughter.

"Morning, mate!" she chirped, as he continued to look thoroughly flummoxed by the situation. Why was it so strange to him? Then he remembered; she wasn't supposed to be here. She hadn't been there for weeks. Then the lonely mornings slotted into place on by one, girl after girl he had no desire to even know in the sober light of day lying in bed beside him, each one his brain transplanted her face onto. And her body. And her voice. And her mind. Her wonderful mind, the mind that archived their conversations and knew nothing could bust his hangover like a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich. Coupled with that gorgeous smile, and the scraggly hair that told him she'd braved adverse conditions to bring him his medicine, he felt better already. But how had this happened?

"This... this isn't real, is it?" he was only half-joking.

"Damn straight it's real," she smiled with a sharp pinch of his hand as proof. Being mean couldn't wait after all.

"Then how are... why are you... I... I was with Summer..."

"Summer Rae?"

"Yeah. Please don't be mad, I didn't..."

"I'm not mad, Wade, carry on..." AJ asserted calmly. She expected as much. She was amazed it didn't bother her more, that she wasn't frantically comparing herself to the myriad women Wade had no doubt pursued during their separation. But she'd seen his face when she walked through that door last night. That was proof enough that they meant nothing. It was the face of someone who'd been rescued from having to make do.

"So, we went back here..." he glanced around the room for clues. His eyes settled on the phone on the table beside him. Then he remembered the messages. His heart sank just thinking about them.

"I felt so awful. You know I would have picked up right away if I'd realised."

"I know," she said sympathetically, touched beyond words once again with the concern betrayed in his voice and facial expression.

"Then... then what happened?"

"You called me. I came here. We made peace. You gave me a frankly awful kiss, but with the mitigating circumstances of your drunkenness it's forgivable. And you still kiss better drunk than Cena does sober."

Wade laughed heartily, having forced so many laughs in the pursuit of sex during the last few weeks, it was a relief to be back with the girl who relaxed and amused him more than any other.

Wade removed the lid from the styrofoam cup of tea and peered inside.

"Oh my God, they actually got the fucking milk right. That's a first," he mused appreciatively.

"I practically had to give the girl a step-by-step guide to get it the way you wanted. I don't think she was best pleased with me," AJ smiled.

"So, you went out after a maximum of six hours sleep, to traipse the streets of an unfamiliar town in search of tea and a bacon sarnie, lectured a Kentuckian on the exact science of a proper brew, and braved inclement weather to make sure it was there under my nose when I woke up?"

"Yup. Best girlfriend ever. And unlike some people I don't need a mug to prove it," she nodded proudly.

"Well you won't get any arguments from me," Wade said fondly, and slowly pulled her arm down so she tumbled into bed beside him, snuggling into him with her head on his shoulder. He leant down so his face met hers, brushing her cheek with his thumb and meeting her with a soft, slow kiss.

"That more like it?" he asked. He took her very satisfied-sounding sigh as a reply in the affirmative. He planted another kiss at the corner of her eye and slipped his arm around her waist, doing everything he wished he had been sober and responsive enough to do when she'd called the night before.

"Welcome back, poppet," he whispered in her ear.

She looked up at him with starry-eyed adoration. It never failed to set his head spinning to have her give him that look, especially now, having thought for so long it would never happen again. Even after all she'd been through, her sunniness and playfulness remained fully intact. It almost scared him how innocent and naive she could seem, how delicate and fragile her little body felt against his. A part of him never wanted to let her out of his sight, into a world that had already shown how unwarrantedly cruel it could be to someone with nothing but good intentions. But she had proven herself to be far tougher, both physically and mentally, than her appearance or general demeanour may have suggested. She was a fighter, just like him.

"So what's the plan for this morning?" AJ inquired.

"How's the head?"

"Good enough," Wade replied with an ever-expanding smirk.

"Good enough for what?" AJ questioned suspiciously.

Wade began to hungrily nip away at her lips with his own, tracing his other hand up her thigh and over her bottom before giving an eager tug at the waistband of her shorts. It had been too long. AJ quickly pulled away, placing her palm on his chest as a gesture of placation.

"Normally I would agree, but I have just gone to the trouble of bringing you cooked food and a hot drink," she said.

"Breakfast, then sex?" he suggested playfully.

"On a full stomach? Sounds messy," she grinned.

"How about breakfast, Xbox while it goes down,  _then_  sex?"

"Alright then, but I pick the game," Wade said with smirking reluctance.

"Sure," AJ gaily replied

"I'll win anyway. I'm unbeatable when I'm horny."

* * *

CM Punk could quite honestly say that there had been few days in his life where he'd felt less inclined to leave his bed, to make any form of conversation, to accomplish anything. He'd gone for broke, chanced his arm, put all his eggs in one basket, call it what ever cliche you want, he'd geared his life around one eventuality and now had to come to terms with the fact it would never, ever happen. In the grand scheme of things, perhaps he should be glad, as far as he was aware AJ and Wade's relationship was on the road to recovery, so the consequences of his dalliances with Alicia and her twisted schemes were minimal.

But that wouldn't console him right now. Right now all he could think about were the missed opportunities, the enormous timeframe in which AJ's heart was there for the taking, yet he'd waited til it was signed away to another. He vowed that next time he'd make a move as soon as such feelings entered his consciousness. But would there be a next time? Could anyone compare to her? For the time being it was impossible to accept that he would need to look elsewhere. But the message would be hammered home soon enough, they'd be wherever he went, she'd be so careful and apologetic around him, and it would probably be worse than if she'd flaunted her happiness. He loathed himself for getting into this position, where something so unpredictable had become the sole key to his contentment.

He thought about his career, his friends, everything he used to live for, how he could make them his driving force once again. He guessed it was one of those things that came with time. How he hated those things. He'd been awake a full fifteen minutes before his surroundings really registered with him at all. After AJ had left he couldn't bare another moment surrounded by her possessions, smelling her scent on the bedclothes. He'd given her a head start and then traipsed back to the bus, so exhausted by their exchange that in spite of his grief he fell straight asleep.

It was 11AM, feeble sunlight was glinting on the windows, noises of activity emanated from the other end of the bus to remind him he wasn't alone, much as he wished to be. If he were to choose anyone to be beside him at a time like this, Kofi would be one of his first considerations, but vocalising the events of the previous evening would make them final, reopen the wounds which were in the infancy of their healing process.

He heard Kofi's voice, calm and genial as ever. He strained to make out the words.

"It's nothing to do with whether he wants to or not. Phil gets away with being a grouchy bastard way too often. If you need to speak to him, then he's gonna speak to you."

That didn't sound good.

"If it's a bad time a can just go," a female voice that was completely unfamiliar to him replied. This increased Punk's agitation yet further. He had no interviews scheduled, and surely Kofi knew better than to invite a fan on board. Who was this?

He slowly left the bed, caring little that he was about to appear before a complete stranger, a woman at that, in nothing but his boxer shorts. He wrestled in less, after all. He wandered into the living area and found Kofi reclining in his usual seat, holding court with their visitor, a slight thing with pale brown skin and a mane of wavy golden-brown hair. She clung for dear life to the fixed table between them, clearly extreme anxious and ill at ease. If he'd seen her before, he couldn't begin to say where. What could she possibly want?

At the sight of him her eyes widened to near bursting point, her lip beginning to quiver. Arrogant as it seemed to say so, he was used to this response from young ladies, but he had even less time than usual for fangirling this morning. Her reaction to Punk's emergence prompted Kofi to wheel around.

"Here he is! Heard you come in late last night, what was it? Three? Four? Must have been quite an intense, uh...  _gaming_  session you and AJ had going on, huh? What did I tell you? A lesson in persistence, Punky, a lesson in persistence."

It took all the reminders Punk could muster of what a good friend Kofi had been over the years for him not to punch him square in the face. Maybe he should have done, send the mystery girl running scared so he didn't have to deal with her. Instead his palms bore the brunt of his aggravation as his fingernails dug savagely into them.

"Nothing happened between me and AJ... and nothing ever will," he hissed through gritted teeth.

" _Got that_?"

"OK, whatever you say. Bit of a change of tune, though, I thought..."

Punk fixed his best friend with a look that told Kofi in no uncertain terms that this conversation would not be going any further, then nodded with irate inquisition in the direction of their guest.

"Um, have you two met before?" Kofi asked with pensive cordiality, hoping to diffuse the profound awkwardness of the situation.

"No, we have not," Punk replied in a dissatisfied drawl, while the girl stiffly shook her head and continued to stare saucer-eyed at him, appearing to be regretting her decision to seek an audience with him more and more by the second.

"This is Sasha, she's been working on NXT down in Florida, and she'd really like a word with you. I'm going for my morning run, so I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

Kofi grabbed his protein shake from the kitchen counter. Punk glared at him aghast. Why hadn't he got rid of her? Why did he have to deal with her alone? And again, what the hell could she possibly want from him? At least he knew who she was now. The girl whose botch broke AJ's wrist. From what AJ had told him, it wouldn't be surprising if that was what was eating at her even now. Well, he was in no mood to reassure some histrionic little malcontent with a guilt complex. Kofi merely shrugged, as only Kofi would in such circumstances, and hurriedly bade them both goodbye has he clambered out of the door and broke into a jog across the car park.

Punk sat heavily down in the seat his travelling partner had until recently occupied, the light thud of his arms on the table was enough to make Sasha jump vigorously.

"Well, come on. Out with it, darling, I'm a busy man," he snapped.

"I... I'm sorry to bother you, but... I didn't know who else I could tell..." she began. Seeing how utterly terrified the poor girl was made him slowly begin to remember himself. It was in no way her fault she'd caught him at such an unbelievably bad time, so he had no right to harass and bully her. Still, he couldn't for the life of him understand what she could be alluding to.

"Other than me? We don't even..."

"Alicia..." the name made Punk's blood run cold. Even in three syllables he could hear the disdain, fear and helplessness in Sasha's intonation. He knew what that woman was capable of, the lengths to which he was willing to go, the effect she could have on the mind of all she singled out to act out her warped fantasies. He knew what it had done to him, a self-assured, assertive older head, he couldn't even begin to imagine the influence she would be able to wield over the young and impressionable.

Sasha had his undivided attention now. He watched her run her fingers up into her hair, now shaking with tension, tears beginning to flood her brown eyes. Maybe he hadn't escaped any fallout from his conspiring after all.

"What? What did she do?" he questioned with hoarse impatience, at this stage more anxious to know how he figured into the equation rather than out of concern for the distraught young woman.

"The match... with AJ... she told me...  _threatened_ , threatened me... she said she'd hurt me, that she could lose me my job if I didn't... didn't" her words failed her again, she placed her elbows on the table and began furiously massaging her cranium as if to will herself through the pain of recalling the events.

"You're doing good, keep going..." Punk chivvied gently. He didn't know what else to say.

"It wasn't an accident, Punk, she made me do it. She made me hurt my friend. And I  _let_  her, I let her intimidate me, treat me like a child... AJ could've... could've..."

Sasha's face disappeared behind her hands as she was overcome by wailing sobs. Punk sat paralysed. For the second time in 24 hours, a girl was breaking down before him and he had no idea what to do. As if he didn't loathe Alicia and her duplicity enough already, not to mention himself for partaking in it, this revelation had him rocked by rage and guilt. Having sworn AJ's suffering in their plot would be minimal, Alicia had gone on to arrange for severe and deliberate physical harm to befall her. Though he'd never met Sasha before, Punk was well aware of AJ's fondness for the rookie; how charmed she was by the admiration Sasha showed her, how Sasha reminded AJ of herself in her early career. Alicia couldn't have been crueler in her choice of assailant. And it was all in his name, whether he'd agreed to it or not.

The magnitude of what he had gotten himself into was now abundantly clear. It was made flesh in the form of the distraught girl before him, whose self-respect and peace of mind had been obliterated by Alicia's poison. And now, thoroughly ashamed by what she'd allowed herself to be willed into, she had come to the only other person she could bare to tell, the only other person complicit in this whole sordid mess. Stranger though she may be, and regardless of his own multitude of woes, he was all she had.

He rose from his seat, slowly lifted her up and shepherded her with his arm around her shoulder onto the sofa on the other side of the isle. Once there he beckoned to his chest. She seemed to hesitate, not wanting to impose upon him. He pulled her in, linking his arms around her.

"What sort of a person am I?" she questioned softly.

"Listen to me, this isn't your fault. That fucking wackjob trapped you, and I helped her. I'm the one who should be ashamed,"

"You didn't know about this..."

"I knew who I was dealing with, I knew she'd stop at nothing, and to be brutally honest, where my mind was, even if I knew I might not have cared. I went off the deep end, and I won't be able to come back if I don't undo this whole disaster as best I can."

"W-what do you mean?" Sasha stammered, her tears abating as she looked up at him with hopeful wonder.

"Alicia's crazy little pantomime is going to come crashing down around her. If it means April never talks to me again, so be it. I owe it to myself, I owe it to her, and I owe it to you. I don't fear Alicia, and neither should you."

"But... Punk, I don't think..." Punk could see the barriers in her mind, how Alicia's aura of unhinged menace had convinced her she couldn't be felled, how facing her head on filled her with almighty dread. He'd see to it she wouldn't be scared anymore.

He moved back from her, placed his hands on her shoulders and bent down so his eyes inescapably locked with hers.

"I'll be by your side, Sasha. I'm gonna help you stand up to her, she won't know what the fuck's hit her. We're in this together."

She threw herself around his neck with such force he nearly toppled backwards into the isle, breathing 'thank you' to him over and over again. This was utterly bizarre and nonsensical, but after the events of the last two months what did make sense in his life anymore? All he knew was that he needed to bring this nefarious second life of Alicia's out into the open. Let AJ realise that it was much more than circumstance that had stacked the odds against her and Wade's future together. Give Sasha back the clarity and optimism that should never have been taken from her. It was the only way to drown out his heartbreak, his only shot at redemption.

 


	23. Fate

"Ugh, what's that bitch looking so happy about?" Rosa scowled as she shot daggers across the lobby toward the blissfully unaware AJ, who was chattering merrily away on her phone.

"Maybe it's creative with another main event storyline she doesn't deserve," quipped Layla in response.

"Or maybe it's Drew," Rosa grinned as the pair shared a mischievous giggle.

"Why Drew?" Alicia questioned in as disengaged a tone as she could muster.

"Didn't we tell you?" Layla shot back, voice heavy with the relish that only gossip would bring.

"We happened upon sweet little AJ sneaking into his room the other night. She's not fooling anyone with that self-righteous 'true love waits' bullshit. If there's anything sadder than a skank, it's a skank in denial."

"Her ex's best friend, how fucking low can you go? Wade really picked a good 'un there, didn't he? Talk about life imitating art," Rosa mused derisively.

"She'd probably let 3MB triple-team her if they asked!"

As Layla and Rosa doubled over in puerile hysterics, Alicia did her best to remain magnanimous, to let her friends be the ones who appeared to be harboring the grudge while she merely wanted to put the whole episode behind her and move on with her life. She was genuinely trying to do that, but somehow revenge hadn't proved as sweet as she had been hoping. The presumption that she could satiate her thirst for retribution by subjecting Wade to an avalanche of heartache, to the acute agony of seeing the love of his life taken by another, had proved incorrect. She wanted to dismiss Punk and AJ as pawns in her chess game, deluded fools whose sad little romance was beneath her interest, but that simply was not the case. The fact AJ remained happy grated on her savagely. She'd escaped unscathed from heartbreak once again. How did she do it?

AJ ended her phone call, broke into a triumphant jig and beamed to herself, clearly very pleased indeed with its outcome.

"God, what is she, nine?" Rosa snarled.

"Jesus Christ, look at her now... who's she waving to? Oh... oh for the love of..."

Alicia's eyes widened in furious disbelief as Wade ambled onto the scene, matching AJ's grin with one of his own. His face lit up as she presumably relayed the details of the phonecall while bouncing on the spot. He lifted her right off the ground and spun her in a circle. And finally, as if there was any doubt about what this all meant, pulled her into an enthusiastic kiss.

No. No this couldn't be happening. She'd killed them. How had they survived? All the planning, all the analysis of what would make AJ crack, what she was too weak-willed and panic-prone to cope with, Alicia had been convinced she'd finish them off for good. The guilt of hurting Alicia, the terror of Wade's latent aggression being teased out, the promise of love from a man blatantly more suited to her, and she'd overcome it all? Her? This feeble, insecure, foolish, pathetic little imbecile? And Wade had evidently fought to reclaim her. The man who had never loved had busted his gut to redeem himself and she'd accepted him again. Why her? Of all the women that could make him finally discover that somewhere in there he had a heart, it was that  _thing_? Alicia was no closer to feeling anything like the person she once had been, no closer to finding someone to rekindle her faith in life and love, while AJ had two options of romantic bliss to choose from. This wasn't right.

While this internal inferno seared through her brain, Alicia had been gaping open-mouthed at them, frozen rigid. Finally, Rosa and Layla ceased their mirthful sniping long enough to notice their friend had turned to stone. They predictably flanked her, placing concerned hands around her shoulders. Normally this cheered Alicia up, if only for the twisted satisfaction that they still placed so much importance on her wellbeing when she could hardly care less about them. This time, however, her distress was no act, she was genuinely rocked to her core.

"Come on, sweetie, let's get you out of here, you don't have to see this," Layla gently urged.

"I wish I could go over there and finish what I started with that piece of fucking..." Rosa began to hiss irately.

"Rosa!" Layla scolded.

"It didn't help then, and it won't help now. Alicia just needs a nice, relaxing day away from all this nonsense. Isn't that right, dear?"

Alicia couldn't believe she once found Layla's pretensions as diva matriarch anything other than risibly patronising. She was just as much of a harebrained simpleton as the rest, yet she evidently believed having a few more miles on the clock had granted her the ability to read minds, to think and speak for the offended party in a situation such as this. But on this occasion she was right, she couldn't bare to observe that scene any longer, and it had served to confirm the change in emphasis in her thinking. This had precious little to do with Wade at all anymore. She hated AJ Lee more than anyone she'd ever known, and some way, somehow, she was going to make her hurt.

* * *

"Woah, half 11, guess I better make myself scarce for your date," Kofi said briskly, leaping to his feet.

"For the record, I think you're dealing with this in the best possible way. AJ who? Am I right?"

"It's not... a date," Punk tersely reiterated, causing the Ghanaian to smile broadly having touched the nerve he was aiming for.

"You're inviting a girl round and you want me out of the way, forgive me for jumping to conclusions."

"You know the deal, Kofi. I just think we need a bit of one-on-one time, get to know each other. This won't work if we don't establish some sort of platonic relationship. How's she supposed to feel that she can count on my support if she isn't comfortable around me? I want her to trust me."

"Yeah right,  _trust_  you," Kofi replied with a wink.

"Trust you all night long."

"...Get off my bus."

"I'm going, I'm going..."

Kofi trudged down the steps and out of view, chuckling the whole way. Sasha's petrified intrusion a few days earlier had been too bizarre to pass off as a mere exchanging of pleasantries, and Punk had been forced to regretfully let Kofi in on his clandestine negotiations with Alicia. He knew there were few more trustworthy confidantes than his travel partner, but nonetheless admitting his deceit to someone who held him in such high regard had only deepened the disgust in which he held himself. Yet Kofi had understood wholeheartedly. Their empathy with one another ran deep, and it was this that allowed Kofi to know just what buttons to push to affectionately rile his best friend at this moment.

Though he may not have classified it as a date, he felt unusually nervous and keen to impress, like he owed Sasha a good time due to his unwitting assistance in her corruption. To add to that, if they didn't click, how could he effectively fill the role of emotional and moral supporter that he now felt compelled to play? He'd heard AJ, hardly the most gregarious of people herself, marvel at how shy and reticent Sasha could be. He didn't deal well with shyness, his attempts to comfort the socially anxious often ended up having the opposite effect, much to his silent dismay.

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint tapping on the door. God, she even knocked coyly. He calmly reached across to the door release button on the control panel and watched as Sasha gingerly ascended the stairs, pleased to see her sporting a rather eager smile. He couldn't help but notice she was a lot prettier when she wasn't on the verge of fainting.

"Hello!" she exclaimed cheerily, then gulped pensively as if pondering the consequences of this premature display of warmth.

"Welcome back," he replied with a sheepish wave, getting to his feet.

"Cool bus..." murmured Sasha absent-mindedly as she surveyed her surroundings.

"It's the same one as last time," Punk quipped with a wry smirk.

"Well, I was a little preoccupied first time round," she giggled self-consciously.

"OK, I'm not gonna lie. Sort of marking out a little here. It's like being inside your DVD... God that sounds lame, doesn't it? Sorry, it's just that I'm kinda..."

"Sasha..." Punk said in as calm but firm a tone as he could manage.

"Relax. I'm just an ordinary guy who forgets to shave, leaves his DVDs lying all over the floor and expired milk on his kitchen counter... I  _asked_  you to be here because I want to spend time with you. As of now I forbid you to apologise for anything for the remainder of your time on board. So long, that is, as you refrain from suggesting that Boston, its people and its sports teams are in any way superior to their Chicago counterparts. Deal?"

"Gonna have to agree to disagree on the last point, but OK. Just an ordinary guy?" she repeated, fixing him with a somewhat mischievous look that he found himself enjoying a little too much.

"Yup. Phil Brooks, pleased to meet you," he smiled, offering his hand.

"Mercedes Kaestner-Varnado. Pleasure's all mine."

"My my, talk about a mouthful. Mind if we stick with Sasha?"

"People tend to."

"Well, Sasha, you've been shooting a glance in the direction of my New Japan collection every ten seconds since you came in, so I guess that answers my next question."

"I'm sorry. I bet you've seen them dozens of times..."

"What did I tell you about apologising? You stick the DVD on, I'll sort us some refreshments, 'fraid we don't have anything alcoholic."

"At 11.30 AM that's far from a problem."

"Just checking. You are from Boston after all."

* * *

"Can you believe it?  _Can you believe it_?!" Alicia raged, her clenched fists swinging wildly.

"Well, when you've known for three days, it kind of sinks in," Aksana replied, inscrutably calm as ever, not to mention rather amused at the state Alicia had managed to work herself into.

"You knew? Why didn't you tell me?!" thundered Alicia in exasperation.

"I've told you before, I've no obligations to you anymore. I've helped you all I can," Aksana lectured disinterestedly.

"Why? Why can't you help me now? What's changed?" Alicia was desperate, and though infuriated as ever by Aksana's obliqueness and tone of superiority, was holding back on the insults in a bid to win back her undeniably crucial support.

"It wouldn't be fair," Aksana said firmly, crossing her legs as she perched daintily on the edge of the bed.

"Fair? I'll tell you what isn't fair; the fact that AJ's come out of all this with everything she's ever wanted while I'm still tearing my hair out wondering what the hell I have to do to feel anything approaching satisfaction!"

"They've earned it, Alicia. They've overcome every obstacle, every trial, it's meant to be. Fate. There is nothing you or I can or should do," Aksana's tone was almost comforting. Almost. Alicia still got the feeling that she was taking twisted pleasure in her despair.

"But why does she deserve..." Alicia breathed, her voice softening, anger becoming pain.

"Let it go," Aksana implored in almost a whisper.

"I can't," Alicia squeaked, choking back a sob.

"Well you won't be able to count on my assistance," the Lithuanian replied in a passive-aggressive chirp, getting to her feet, straightening her white polo shirt and matching skort and brushing past Alicia on her way to the door.

"Aksana respects fate. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go, tennis calls. And you don't keep Sgt. Slaughter waiting."

And with that she picked up her racket, slinging it theatrically over her shoulder as she took her leave.

Alicia rested her arms on the dresser, almost collapsing against it, glancing up with trepidation to meet her reflection in the mirror. No wonder Aksana wanted nothing to do with her, she looked every bit the bitter, unhinged spinster-in-waiting she felt herself slowly becoming. But no amount of cautionary words or reality checks could change her mind, she knew that there was no turning back. For now, though, she had the rest of the day to get through. Time for another pill.

* * *

"...Everything they say is true. A complete gentleman," Punk finished with a warm smile of remembrance, which grew bigger upon seeing Sasha's look of enthused fascination.

"That's just... wow," she beamed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"The whole time I was just thinking: This is the guy I used to pretend to be when we were jumping around on mattresses in my back yard, and here he is sleeping on my floor. And I asked him about... remember that ladder match he had with Jericho at SuperBrawl?"

"What year was that?"

"Umm... '96 I think."

"I was four."

Sasha grinned with a wince as she watched his mouth hang open.

"Please don't do that to me again," Punk chuckled, feigning self-consciousness as he traced his fingers across the lines on his face.

"Let's see: I was nine when WCW was bought out, and fourteen when you debuted in WWE."

"Just fucking stop!" Punk protested playfully, covering his ears.

"Sorry," she murmured contritely, and fell silent as her attention reverted to the television. He'd lost her again. She was letting herself go for longer each time he broke through, allowing him to glimpse the real her, before her awkwardness returned and she became skittish in his presence once again, her fear of intruding upon him stifling her ability to loosen up and enjoy herself.

He leant back on the corner seat and watched her as she sat glued to the screen, totally unaware she was under his scrutiny. He watched as her bright brown eyes glowed with appreciation at each manoeuvre, an unconscious half-smile playing on those vivid pink lips. Next thing he knew his gaze was following the path of shimmering golden brown hair down her front, coming instinctively to rest where the hem of her dress gave way to bare thigh. Her sensuality was becoming uncomfortably clear to him.

In a fit of conscientiousness he shook his head and prised his eyes back to their morning's entertainment. He was utterly disgusted with himself. What was he doing? She'd just made the yawning age gap between them abundantly clear. Well, he was only two days removed from the woman he loved telling him she never had and never would feel the same, of course he was a little misguided and disoriented in that department. Yeah, that must have been it.

As the match reached its conclusion, Sasha snapped stiffly to her feet.

"Listen, I better go. Thanks for this. It was fun," she said with hurried gratitude.

"You don't need to thank me, believe it or not I'm actually grateful for the company too," Punk replied, joining her by the door. She didn't look any less guilty.

"Look, I'm gonna lay this bare once and for all. I wouldn't have offered you my support, or invited you here today, if I didn't want to. You haven't forced me into anything. You're a really nice person, whose been put through some really shitty things, and there's little in life that pisses me off more than that. And that is why, I, as your friend, am gonna help you put the fruit loop responsible in her place. Only if you denied me that opportunity would you be bringing me to grief. We clear this time?"

Throughout his declaration her smile had slowly begun to return with a vengeance. She shifted forward hesitantly, then evidently resolved to throw caution to the wind and wrapped her arms around him.

"Don't you dare say 'thank you'," he jested softly.

 


	24. Redemption

"I... I'm still not ready. The whole prospect is still just so... Please, not tonight," Sasha's eyes were subsumed with fear as she clung tightly to the worksurface of the bus kitchen area. Once again Punk raised his hand to the bottom of her chin, turning her up to look at him. How many times would he have to do this before she finally felt reassured enough to face her sorrow head on? Why had nothing he had said or done thus far provided her with that feeling? He couldn't help but see it as him failing in his pledge.

One thing was for certain, her continued reticence was not causing him to feel any anger or disappointment towards her. His commitment to his promise of unconditional support only grew by the day, it was the main motivation to get up each morning. It had to be, how could he possibly begin to feel good about himself again while the legacy of his actions still impacted in such a debilitating way on someone so innocent and well-meaning? But also, and increasingly more prevalently than any feeling of redemption he sought to gain, how could he continue to watch her like this? Each time it happened the empathy he felt and the desire to make it a thing of the past deepened. The fact he was getting to spend longer and longer in the company of the 'real' Sasha before dread and nervousness took hold made him more acutely aware of what he was missing when she became stifled like this, and he knew this was the last time he could bare witness to it. The bullet had to be bitten.

"Whenever it happens, it's going to be difficult," he began.

"And I've seen you like this for way, way too long. Just think, all it takes is one moment of courage, and you'll never need to feel this way again. She's a messed up, insecure, frightened woman. In fact that's the best thing to remember; she's scared too. It's fear that's driving her, and all it takes is for someone to call her out, and she'll shrivel away like every bully before and every bully since. You're stronger than her alone, and together with me, she doesn't stand a fucking chance."

"You make it sound so simple," she breathed. It was a compliment and not a criticism, the smile gave that away. There was a strange and wonderful emotion he'd come to feel when he saw his words of reassurance lift her like this. Way more than just relief. Before he could consummate this heady feeling with any physical act, the hiss of compressed air and the ascension of footsteps up the stairwell behind him told Punk that any tender moment he were to instigate would be played out before an audience.

"Afternoon all, hope I'm not interrupting anything," Kofi announced cheerily, slapping Punk vigorously on the back as he made his way behind them and flopped down on the sofa. Punk and Sasha murmured monosyllables of acknowledgement, all the while maintaining purposeful eye contact with each other.

"Meet me outside the Divas locker room at 8 tonight. The second Alicia is out that door, she's ours. We're gonna tell her in no uncertain terms that the game's up," he hissed urgently, desperate for her to agree to his plan. She gave a forthright nod.

"Good, now get off to the gym and enjoy the rest of your day," he added, his tone lightening and his arms moving down from her shoulders to pull her into a fleeting embrace.

"Promise it'll be fine?" she whispered sharply in his ear, her earlier apprehension returning.

"Promise," Punk replied assertively.

"OK," Sasha concluded with a deep breath of determination.

"See you tonight then."

"See you tonight."

"Bye, Kofi!" Sasha called, her voice returning to broadcast volume.

"See you 'round, sweetheart," the Ghanaian replied with a warm smile.

Punk then watched as, much to his indignation, his travel partner's eyes did not return to his phone, but instead remained trained vociferously and unapologetically on Sasha as she made her exit, his eyebrows raised in appreciation.

"Kofi, for crying out loud!" Punk thundered in admonishment the second the door closed. Kofi blinked furiously, evidently aiming to appear caught in the act, but the knowing grin told Punk this was all part of the latest bout of prying and needling where the status of Punk and Sasha's alliance was concerned.

"Nothing wrong with admiring the view, Philip. Don't pretend you've never done the same," he smirked.

"You're a married father of one, grow the fuck up and have some respect!" Punk snapped. Of course, he had done the same, repeatedly, much to his own self-disgust.

"You didn't answer my question," Kofi retorted snarkily.

"Well yeah, she's very easy on the eye, of course she is, but the point I'm trying to make is that I could show you parts of Chicago where I'd be considered comfortably old enough to be her father, and you're not too far behind."

"And what if you were 24 and not 34?" Punk could feel the avenues of escape closing. Yet again Kofi's knowledge of what made him tick was proving maddeningly thorough.

"Well I'm not, so it's beside the point," he spluttered defensively.

"You wouldn't hesitate a second, would you?"

"Look, I don't deal in hypotheticals."

"The fact is, when the only reason you're ever able to give for not making your move is age, well... that ain't reason at all. Because I can tell you now, it's not a problem for Sasha."

"So you think  _she_  is interested in me?" Punk scoffed.

"A gorgeous 21-year-old girl with her whole life and career ahead of her is gonna settle for a cranky, worn-out, awkward, narcissistic old prick like me? Well, if that is true, then I guess that's another thing I need to help her overcome."

"A cranky, worn-out, awkward, narcissistic old prick who still can't leave this here bus without being accosted by a horde of hormonal teen girls. That should be evidence enough that you're not over the hill. Not that I'm comparing Sasha to..."

"No, of course not," Punk sighed and looked wistfully out of the window. Kofi had laid him bare, He'd dismissed the past month as his mind going into damage limitation mode, cushioning the blow of AJ's rejection by reaching out to the next remotely viable love interest that came his way. But there was nothing of the 'making do' about the depth of concern and protectiveness she brought out in him. Or how, whether he realised it or not, he was now willing to devote his life to making the spirited, charming young woman he had been allowed tantalising glimpses of a more regular fixture in his world. Perhaps he had been 'defying his heart' once again.

* * *

Alicia had been contemplating how precisely she could roll with this latest punch, how on Earth she was meant to feel any degree of reassurance and satisfaction knowing her carefully-laid plans had counted for nought where Wade and AJ were concerned. Nothing had altered since the whole crazy vendetta began save for that the couple she sought to break apart were now more in love than ever while she herself was travelling perilously closer to the edge, increasingly depending on pharmaceutical reinforcement to maintain the veneer of apathy and magnanimity that was crucial to continuing the double life she couldn't help but live.

Tonight, however, she had received yet another gift from the hand of fate, just as when her assignment to Florida had allowed her to enlist Sasha as the agent of her misdeeds. After receiving the usual asinine, perfunctory gestures of good luck from the other girls in the locker room, she made her way out of the door, genuinely looking forward to stepping foot in the ring for the first time since all went asunder. Tonight was going to be different. Tonight the smiles would not be forced, even if the source of them was not the 'thrill' of entertaining the 'Universe', and the sight that greeted her as she took to the corridor gave her yet more reason to be cheerful: Sasha Banks with fists clenched, nostrils flared and eyes locked indignantly upon her. Only her inherent politeness reflex prevented Alicia from laughing  
out loud.

" _We_  need to talk," Sasha snarled indignantly. If Alicia had seen a less imposing attempt at intimidation she could not remember it. Was this child really trying to stand up to her? Had she really not learnt her lesson from last time? Alicia held this girl's dreams in her well-manicured hands, and she had made it all too clear that any deviation from the pact she had enforced upon her would bring them crashing down. What had possessed her to even begin to contemplate being so bold? The chance to rip Sasha apart, to annihilate her confidence and self-esteem once again, would be the perfect  _appertif_  for what was to come later.

"Do we?" Alicia muttered in as aloof and dismissive a manner she possibly could, failing to even break her stride and look Sasha in the eye. She half-expected this alone would be enough to bring an end to the younger woman's pathetic attempt at rebellion. But to her mild surprise, she felt a tight grip at her wrist. A little too tight. Alicia had noticed from their match together many months earlier that Sasha did boast a deceptively large amount of arm strength, but this was just ridiculous. As the hand began to pull, yanking her into an alcove further along the hall, she wheeled around to meet the mossy green eyes of CM Punk.

"You're not going anywhere until you've heard what we have to say," he spat, his determined furore making his accent thicker than ever. Alicia had not at all foreseen this. Never had she begun to consider it a serious possibility that Sasha would dare disobey her orders, dare put her future in such jeopardy. Surely if Punk knew Sasha was culpable for causing harm to his precious AJ then he'd do Alicia's job for her with regard to ensuring the rookie never darkened any WWE doors ever again. Yet here he was apparently riding into battle beside her. To say this unnerved her would be an understatement. Not that she intended to give them the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Aww, it's a conspiracy," she cooed, almost completely disregarding Punk's attentions and continuing to focus upon Sasha, who had predictably dispensed with her combative stance and reverted to the doe-eyed trembling wreck she'd reduced her to in Rotterdam, the presence of Punk's shoulder to steady herself on seemingly doing nothing to put her at ease.

"He's not your white knight you know, sweetie. His hands are just as dirty as mine. Do you really think he cares about you? He knew how low I was willing to go, he didn't care who I dragged through the mud as long as he got his hands on AJ. You were just collateral damage."

"H-he's my friend," Sasha stammered. Alicia gave a long laugh of pure ridicule. No way could an adult human being be this gutless and pitiful.

"Your 'friend'? Well, isn't that just super?" Alicia mewled as Sasha bowed her head and the tears began to fall, ashamed of how weak she sounded and afraid of her challenge being further dismantled.

"I'd wager he's only your 'friend' because he couldn't get the better version of you. Oh, imagine that, being the cut-price AJ Lee. The poor relation of a poor relation. Wow, it takes a special amount of self-loathing to go with a guy when you know almost for a fact is thinking of someone else every time he..."

"ENOUGH!"

Alicia had to concede a shocked semi-jump backwards as Punk's voice thundered across her and he blocked her path to Sasha, who began softly sobbing, now hidden from view behind his back. But Alicia still wasn't ready to listen.

"Wow, Punk, talk about having a 'type'" she sneered, showing neither remorse nor fear as they locked stares once again.

"So tell me, what is it about a training bra that gets you so hot and bothered?"

"You're not gonna insult us into backing down so I suggest you shut the fuck up and listen," Punk growled. Now Alicia was worried. It was hard not to be. CM Punk ready for war was undeniably an imposing sight. But she still felt she had the box seat. As she had intimated, he was still as much to blame for AJ and Wade's woes as she was.

"You've made this girl's life hell for way too long. And that's before we get on to Wade and April. Deliberately letting someone go out there to get hurt, what kind of fucking psychopath are you? And putting someone totally innocent up to it? This was  _not_  what I agreed to and you know it. The fact I agreed to anything your warped little mind concocted sickens me to the core, but there's nothing I can do about that now. What I can do, however, is make sure everyone knows just what's been going on behind your facade, what 'poor, heartbroken Alicia' is really capable of."

"You're forgetting something. The fact that as soon as I'm outed so are you. The fact that the woman you love will most likely never want to talk to you again," Alicia fired back confidently. In reality, however her anxiety was skyrocketing. She hoped to God he was forgetting, and that it wasn't simply that he didn't care. The next words out of his mouth would reveal the extent of her problems.

"April's made it well and truly clear there's never gonna be any me and her. Far as I see it, I've absolutely nothing to lose," he said plainly with an exaggerated shrug.

"The most important thing to me now is that she knows the truth about what's made her life so fucking hard these past few months and that Sasha's life needn't be a trial for any longer either."

So that was it then. In her rejection of Punk, AJ had cut the crucial thread by which Alicia's whole plan had hung. If she didn't love him, he didn't care what she thought. Why hadn't she foreseen that? How had he managed to turn the tables on her? Worst of all, how had Sasha, the most spineless, malleable excuse for a person she had ever met, had the courage to give him the pang of conscience that set him on this course? All sardonic quips had left her mind, along with any resolve that would enable her to appear unflustered by this standoff. She needed to go, now, before she lost any more face. Any parting shot would be redundant and ripe for mocking once the heat of the situation had dissipated. She threw herself into a 180-degree spin and scurried away. Scurried. Like AJ had to get away from the warm platitudes that had buried her under a mountain of guilt, like Sasha had when she'd held her against the cold steel of those garage doors and threatened her with ruin. They'd reduced her to their level and they wouldn't get away with it. After all, she had nothing to lose either.

* * *

Punk took a deep breath. He'd done everything he'd vowed to do; protected Sasha, stood his ground and let Alicia know that her leverage over him was well and truly gone. He'd almost allowed himself to forget the backlash that would be directed at him until Alicia had mentioned it, but he'd face up to that when the time came. The fact that what had once been such an intense concern had been allowed to slip into the fringes of his mind told him all he needed to know about how his priorities had changed, how AJ's opinion of him had declined rather rapidly in importance, how much of a success the pleas for his mind to dismiss it as a lost cause had been. All his thinking now centered on liberating this girl from the bind she had so unfairly found herself in. The girl who stood before him in tears that he knew carried nervousness, relief and confusion. He was going to stop those tears. He was going to expel those feelings. There was nothing else in the world worth doing at this point in time.

"That's it... it's over, we did it," he whispered, his arms around her as she still refused to extricate her face from her palms.

"Am I supposed to feel good? Because I don't. I don't know how I feel. I just know I want it to stop," she sobbed.

"It will. Remember life? Remember how fun it was before Jilted Janet came along? It's all gonna be back to normal before you know it."

She looked up at him, he could see the hope beginning to build in her eyes and dear lord was it beautiful. If he'd been deliberating before, he knew now with complete and utter certainty. He just hoped he could find the right words.

"Well, back to normal albeit, I hope, with one fairly major difference," he murmured clumsily.

"Huh?" she questioned, with quick, puzzled blinks of her eyes. Geez, could she stop being so adorable for just one second and let him concentrate?

"You see, I... I..." for some reason it just wasn't coming. At least she seemed to be growing increasingly amused by his blustering.

"...am a 34-year-old man who still can't find a smooth way to tell a girl that he really fucking likes her and it would make his decade if she'd do him the honour of becoming his girlfriend," he finally said, then tensed up, bracing for impact, watching several different expressions flash across her face as she sought to process what she had just heard. Now it was her turn to bluster.

"You... Me? Oh, c'mon, you don't really... I mean you're... you're CM Punk... and I'm just..."

"...just about the sweetest, sexiest most charming young lady I could hope to meet," he concluded.  _There_  was the smoothness, two minutes too late as always.

"Oh my God, this can't be... And you just... and you said I... was sexy and... fuck!" she spluttered, gripping her hands either side of her head as if the bubbling cauldron of emotions it contained was about to spill clean out of it.

"Sasha..." Punk breathed, easing her hands down to her sides and moving his arm around her back.

"Yeah?"

"You still haven't given me a proper answer."

She gasped in realisation.

"Oh! Sorry, I... um... Yes! Of course fucking yes. This is just so..."

"It certainly is," Punk grinned. Talking clearly wasn't her strong point at this moment. He pulled her face gently toward his, pausing for a moment to check she wasn't about to engage in another bout of breathless gushing, then attacked, finally tasting those full pink lips he'd scolded himself for fantasising about. Soon his hands were making his way to various other places he'd given himself an even sterner telling off for dwelling upon. She seemed a little reticent on that score, or maybe just inexperienced, but if so he would certainly enjoy educating her. He reluctantly released and opened his eyes to be greeted by a smile and several disbelieving shakes of the head.

"So, the age thing. It doesn't bother you?" Sasha asked sheepishly, a look of dread on her face as if reminding Punk of this factor would cause him to abruptly change his mind. She really couldn't believe what was happening.

"As a wise man... well, Kofi, anyway... said to me this morning; if that's your only reason not to, it ain't reason at all. Man, I've got so much to teach you," he grinned with relish.

" _Phil!_ " she admonished jovially with a slap on the wrist.

"You didn't hear me out,  _Mercedes_. Things like... didn't you say you always wanted to do a Frog Splash?"

"I tried it once on the indies. Didn't end well. At all," she said with a reminiscent wince.

"Well, it's a little-known secret around these parts that CM Punk has a mean Frog Splash among his fantastically varied arsenal. One that I'd be very happy to pass on to you seeing as I ain't doing nothing with it."

"I'd really like that. Thanks."

"What have I told you about thanking me?"

* * *

Foul moods came with the territory for Alicia since her post-Wade awakening, but this must have been the foulest yet. She wanted to scream, to cry, to personally disembowel everyone in this wretched world that got by, that made it through, that considered themselves 'happy.' She could see what a shallow, fragile facade it all was and yet these people, among them some of the most pathetic specimens of all, had rounded on her, had overcome her carefully-calculated trials to stand defiantly against her. And it all went back to one of them. The one that would in a few moments be meeting her in the centre of the WWE ring, completely unaware of the very real danger she was putting herself in. Alicia had initially imagined any physical retribution she were to gain from this stroke of fortune would be sly and subtle. Not anymore. She couldn't honestly say she cared where it would end. AJ Lee had already ruined Alicia's life, and now only that woman's pain; tangible, physical, maybe even permanent, could even begin to qualify as valid vengeance. If Alicia was going down, AJ was going with her.

 


	25. Vengeance

_I remember when they first gave me this hood. In hindsight it was a sign they'd given up on me. It itches, it looks ridiculous, the logical conclusion to the entrance would_   _be to throw it into the crowd but apparently that's 'John's thing' so a mere diva isn't allowed to do it. God forbid I remind the fans that I exist. I've been here_   _five years and most of them scarcely know who I am. Guess I'm a face this week, though expect that all to change the second Kaitlyn needs an opponent who won't botch_ _the shit out of 90% of her offense. And to think I just took it, 'just keep smiling, Alicia, your time will come. Think of all the hundreds and thousands of girls out there who would kill to be doing what you're doing.' At least these days being given so little to do means no one's noticed me ceasing to care._

_Nope, they're not here to see me. It's AJ Lee vs Opponent of AJ Lee. What do they like about her so much? Yeah I get it, the whole 'girl next door' thing, that when_   _a famous woman is gawky and simpering and grateful enough for the attention that she might actually let you fuck her it increases her attractiveness tenfold. But seriously, look at her. And then look at me. Who looks more like the star? And yet, who's been given more opportunities in the last twelve months than I and every other_   _girl here have been given in our whole careers? What happened to sticking around, paying your dues, waiting your turn?_

_Who am I kidding? My hatred for AJ has nothing to do with who did or didn't get a push. It's thanks to her that those sort of things are too trivial and incidental to_   _matter. Who cares whether or not you get on TV when you're fighting a daily running battle to preserve your sanity and will to live? I can't believe she thinks I've_ _just shrugged it all off. That I've just accepted she's hijacked the life that should be mine._

_Here she comes, skipping, smiling, taking twice as long as me because she's allowed to. Look at them ogling her on the front row. I guess they like them ratfaced and_   _rackless in Oklahoma. Little do you suspect, oh pathetic one, you won't be leaving here upright. Any remaining desire I had to pass up on this opportunity to break you_   _evaporated a few minutes ago. The only question now is which limb to snap first._

* * *

AJ was deeply immersed in character as she glanced across the ring to Alicia, perching coquettishly on the middle rope and shooting the Floridian a smile of malevolence and faux-innocence. However, it was taking more resolve than normal to remain in 'black widow' mode this evening. This match and the road agent meeting that had preceded it had been the only time she and Alicia had interacted since that fateful night in St Louis, when AJ's ruinous guilt forced her into revealing the truth about her involvement with Wade. The meeting was less awkward than expected; Alicia had been somewhat guarded, but still perfectly compliant and personable and they were able to quickly work through their match and go their separate ways until showtime. Still, AJ wondered what hurt remained behind the exterior of placid professionalism, and while she no longer had any question as to her and Wade's right to be together, the idea that Alicia continued to be tormented by her happiness frequently came back to plague her. These were not circumstances conducive to giving good show, and this was one match she couldn't wait to be over.

The bell rang and the opening minutes played out as planned: AJ cycled through some characteristic mind-game spots, skipping around Alicia then surprising her with a heel kick, and jumping gleefully into her arms only to drop down into a DDT to give her early control. From here, Alicia was to battle back only for AJ to take advantage of Big E's ringside distraction to roll her up for the win. But when the time came for the tide to turn, it slowly began to dawn upon AJ that her opponent was not prepared to stick to script.

First came the Northern lights suplex; it was bone-jarringly hard, but these things happened from time to time. AJ made sure to tap discreetly on Alicia's arm as she kicked out to indicate she would need a moment of recuperation before they moved on to the next spot. Alicia dutifully rolled onto her front on the other side of the ring, and AJ took the opportunity to zone out and recharge. All of a sudden a sharp thud to her ribcage had her yelping with shock and pain, her protestations for Alicia to wait a few seconds longer fell on deaf ears, drowned out by vigorous grunting. She'd never heard Alicia make such a noise before, with all due respect she hadn't thought her capable of simulating that level of rage and intensity. But with the severity of the strikes and her refusal to relent despite AJ's obvious discomfort, was she simulating anymore?

Finally Alicia backed off and AJ was able to pull herself back to her feet with the aid of the ropes, but no sooner had she established her balance she turned around into a vicious dropkick that sent her sprawling across the ring. She came to rest in the far corner where Big E had taken up residence.

"Did you plan for shit to get this brutal?" he questioned anxiously under the guise of offering her a pep talk.

"I'm getting a little scared, E, I don't know what's she's..." all of a sudden AJ found herself being dragged from the friendly corner back to the centre of the ring, Alicia clamping on a sleeper hold about as tightly as she possibly could whilst giving AJ the minimum of leeway around her throat required for her to be able to speak or breath. This couldn't go on any longer, she needed to communicate with Alicia that it was time to slow down. She hoped that it was just carelessness on her opponent's part and there was no malicious intent. But if things had taken a turn for the shoot, then what? She supposed it wouldn't be the end of the world if she ran away in the middle of a non-televised match, in fact it may even be rather fitting for her character. But things hadn't become that desperate yet.

"Alicia... could you go a little softer, please? That suplex really hurt my back," she murmured discreetly, mouth hidden by her hair.

"So no back bumps? Got it," Alicia replied calmly. AJ sighed with relief. All just a misunderstanding. Trust her paranoia to inflate it into something more. How ridiculous. Alicia wasn't a psychopath, she'd never before tried to deliberately hurt her, why start now in front of thousands of witnesses? Then Alicia's arms scooped around her hips and whether she wanted to or not AJ was hoisted horizontally off the ground. This looked worryingly like the set up for...

"Please, no..." she whimpered, looking up at her assailant, eyes wide with terror, hoping for some degree of conscience to take hold in Alicia's mind at this sight. Alicia merely nodded and smiled. An unholy, ruthless smile that in one small gesture caused AJ to rethink all she thought she knew about Alicia Fox.

As the knee thundered into the middle of her spine, the pain was intense as any she'd experienced in the ring prior to her wrist-break. She was choking back tears as Alicia re-applied the sleeper, part due to the agony, and part in petrified realisation that the fight she was in was now very real. She gasped, kicked her legs, readied her lungs to scream for help; to Big E, to the referee, to anyone, but before she could get a word out the grip tightened on her throat.

"Breath a word to them and I could kill you before they'd even know what to do," Alicia hissed, with enough unhinged malice that AJ didn't doubt the truth of the statement for a second.

"Why are you doing this?" AJ rasped as Alicia finally slackened her hold.

It took the slither of restraint that remained within Alicia not to strangle the girl there and then. That she had the temerity, the shortsightedness to ask such a question. It really would be no great loss to the world if she really did kill her.

" _Why?_  Why do you think?" she panted heavily.

"Because you don't deserve a thing that you have. Your career, your friends, your family, your perfect fucking boyfriend.  _What have you done to earn that? Huh? Nothing_? What have I done to become who I've become? I'm not enjoying this, you know? I'm doing it because I have to. You've got away with this too long. How have you managed it,  _how?_ "

"Please! I don't know what you're..."

As AJ protested and continued to struggle, a glint of metallic light drew Alicia's eyes to her opponent's right wrist, where a bracelet had slipped down from beneath the Dolph Ziggler-branded sweatband. A gold bracelet. Delicate, ornate, finely-engraved and beautiful. A gift of true love if Alicia ever saw one. A gift the like of which she herself had never received.

"How have you got him to love you so much? What is it about you? You're no one.  _No one!_  Well let me tell you, sweetheart, he couldn't possibly love you as much as I hate you. You asked for this. You ruined my life. You snivelling, sheltered, pathetic, drippy, dowdy, smug, stupid, spoilt little brat!"

At her final insult AJ burst into tears, the instinctual shock of which caused Alicia to momentarily loosen her clutches. Before she knew it the smaller woman was crawling frantically across the ring, making near-incomprehensible pleas for assistance. She wasn't getting away this easily. Alicia pounced upon her, making sure to drive her knees into the same spot on AJ's back that she had already heaped punishment upon. She couldn't get the image of the bracelet out of her head. All that time, that dedication, that love wasted on that feeble little girl. She'd given enough love in her time to more than warrant something so lovely and symbolic. No one had tried harder to be loved than her. Surely she wasn't the only one who could see the injustice here. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She was setting the balance right.

AJ continued to sob. If she expected this to illicit some sympathy from Alicia she was proving herself more idiotic still. The crowd was coming to life with panic, confusion and in some cases glee as they sought to comprehend what was happening, whether they were witnessing a thespian display for the ages or the real-life meltdown of an extremely troubled young woman.

Snatching fistfuls of AJ's hair, Alicia began began pounding her head barbarously into the mat as if she were trying to crack open a coconut, her voice reaching a blood-curdling growl that she never would have believed herself even capable of a year ago.

"Don't cry, little AJ! It's OK, poppet! Soon you can go home to your perfect life!  _If_  I let you. But you can bet most of your blood won't be going with you. Not so cute now, are you? Do you think Wadey will still love you with that button nose split in two? Or with only one eye? No teeth? What ab..."

Alicia found herself being elevated further and further away from her target. A booming, irate voice soon clued her in on the source of the intrusion.

"What the fuck has happened to you? You're going to fucking kill her!" Big E bellowed, clamping his mammoth arms around Alicia's waist as she vainly flailed her arms and legs. The referee swooped down between them, flitting frantically between checking on AJ and making sure Big E had Alicia restrained.

Time seemed to slow down, it was as if Alicia's insurmountable determination to leave a decisive blow on her prey fine-tuned her timing and co-ordination. She saw AJ begin to find her feet, any second her sense of danger would bite again and she'd flee the ring, to the safety of backstage, of Wade, and there was all likelihood Alicia would never be allowed near her ever again. This was the last chance. A well-timed back-swing of her boot made contact with Big E's groin. Her feet landed back on the canvas just as AJ reached the perfect prone position on all fours. Alicia broke into a gut-busting sprint and leaped over the crouching official before he had chance to react. One leg cleaved thin air, but the other struck like a harpoon into the back of AJ's neck. The crowd gasped in horror her body splintered onto the mat face-first, the impact forcing her neck to crank 90 degrees at sickening velocity.

Alicia fell to her knees, her face twitching furiously. There was no expression that could possibly convey how she felt. AJ's eyes were closed, the blood trickled down. The sobs were gone. Any sign of life was gone. She'd silenced her at last.

 


	26. Unravelled

The instant AJ awoke her heart began hammering and sweat began to form on her brow, although it would take several seconds before her mind remembered why her body was communicating such panic. As soon as it did, she began glancing anxiously around the room, begging her vision to come into sharper focus. She was in a bed, not a particularly comfy one. Maybe Wade was there beside her. That alone would cease her fretting. The room was brightly lit, charmless industrial tube lighting, like in an office... or a hospital. She tried to turn her head get a better look at her surroundings.

But she couldn't. She physically couldn't. There was something thick and spongy beneath it, something like... a neck brace. She'd worn one for a few weeks the previous year to sell the injuries she suffered at the hands of the Big Show. It was uncomfortable and restrictive and she tore it off with a sigh of relief the second the cameras stopped rolling. But this time there were no cameras, which meant her injuries were very real. But how bad was it? Would she be able to wrestle again? She couldn't feel a thing, no doubt thanks to the magic of morphine, so it was impossible to even begin to tell.

Would she even want to wrestle again? She never thought she'd find herself asking that question, but then she never thought the ring would play host to something so unthinkably horrible. It all came flooding back to her, the images racing by at double speed like an early silent film, only stopping to pause on that face. Alicia's cold, unrelenting, hateful countenance before she dropped AJ over her knee, the point at which the nightmare began. She'd never had anyone look at her like that before in her whole life; as if she were subhuman, as if they couldn't bare to see her do anything but suffer. She feared that once would be enough to scar her forever.

Alicia. Where was she now? AJ hoped in time she'd come to pity the girl, wonder at what point her mind became so disengaged from reality, so willing to forsake all common sense and conscience as she had evidently done. Right now, however, her concerns were of an altogether more selfish and simplistic nature. She didn't give a damn what Alicia was doing as long as she was as far away from her as possible, as long as she couldn't get her again.

Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps. They were close, surely in the very same room as herself. She desperately willed her body to sit upright, to reveal the entirety of her locale and tell her whether or not she had anything to fear, but she was still far too dazed and weak.

"Who's there?" she breathed anxiously.

No answer. Just the footsteps getting closer and closer. Why wouldn't they announce themselves? Why would they want her to be scared? If that was what they wanted, they'd certainly succeeded. Though it defied all logic, she couldn't rule out it being  _her_. As the footsteps stopped beside her bed, the figure enveloping the light, she readied herself to scream. If this was a hospital, surely help wouldn't be far away. She tensed up in dread. Not again. She'd honestly rather die. The scream was at the apex of her throat, ready to be dispatched, when finally a reply came.

"Awake at last, I see..."

It was not Alicia. It didn't matter who else it was. But nonetheless, even in her disoriented state, AJ would recognise that voice anywhere. After all, she only knew one Lithuanian.

"I'm so glad you made it through, well done," Aksana said, as always in a tone that could be interpreted as both genuine and sarcastic. AJ had no time for mind games and riddles, there was only one person she really wanted to see, one person who would devote all his attentions to putting her at ease until he succeeded.

"What are you doing here? Where's Wade?" she questioned frantically. She felt a tight grip abruptly closing around the knuckles of her right hand, and a thumb soothingly rubbing across her palm.

"He's on his way, don't worry," Aksana whispered. It was the most genuine and direct AJ had ever known her to be, and she couldn't believe how successful this attempt at reassurance was. But then, when was Aksana ever wrong?

"You had no idea she was capable of that did you?" Aksana asked rhetorically, maintaining her sympathetic timbre.

"I didn't either, although I'm afraid to say, I had a clearer idea than most."

"What do you mean?" AJ asked, now relaxed enough to be genuinely intrigued.

"Well, surely you were beginning to wonder why you and Wade's right to be together was constantly on trial?"

"I... I guess, but then, we don't know it any other way."

"That's true, you don't... but you will," Aksana replied softly, leaning over AJ so she could see her for the first time, giving her a warm smile. This was most unlike any of their previous interactions. Then she stepped back; AJ could hear her pacing about the room as she began one of her characteristic orations.

"By the time we first spoke about it, it was too late for poor Alicia. I knew she'd stop at nothing to do what she believed would restore balance to her world, however misguidedly. And that was getting even with Wade Barrett. But even then, back when you were mere collateral, I knew there was something about you that... jarred with her. Suffice to say Wade wasn't the only thing you possessed that Alicia coveted."

"I wanted to help her, I thought, maybe, that fate owed her some recompense. But when you and Wade pulled through, I soon realised it wasn't the way the decks were stacked. And then came the other man with the same goal. I saw how much he wanted you and I thought surely, this time, it's destiny. Then... you and Wade rode out the storm again, I've never seen anything like it in..."

"Wait, wait, wait. By the 'other man' you mean Phil, right?" AJ queried.

"Yes, but, please AJ, he  _is_  a good man, a good man who found himself in a very bad place. I haven't spoken to him since it all unraveled, but I can tell you all but for certain he sincerely regrets conspiring with Alicia, just as hopefully she'll recover sufficiently to regret setting the ball rolling in the first place."

"Phil... and Alicia... what do you mean conspiring?" then suddenly it hit her almost as hard as Alicia's boot had a few hours earlier.

"Sasha! Oh God, the poor girl, no wonder she felt so guilty. Shit! This all just so fucked up..." as AJ's heart rate began to accelerate once again, the warm hand returned, this time to her shoulder.

"Steady there. You didn't ask for any of this, and for what it's worth, neither did Punk. If my interpretation of what I saw tonight was correct, that side of the plan was the work of Alicia and Alicia alone. Young Miss Banks is in safe hands now, she won't have to worry about being taken advantage of like that again, and you won't have to worry about Punk not being able to put your failed experiment behind him."

"Phil and Sasha? Really?"

"It's kinda sweet, huh?"

"Maybe. All of this is way too much of a shock to be sweet right now. Just the idea that all these people went through all of this... just to stop me and Wade from... and  _you_ , it's thanks to you they had the guts to go through with it in the first place. I should hate you. But..."

AJ gave an exasperated sigh as her words failed her. She couldn't even begin to apply conventional emotions to what Aksana brought out in her. A key contributor to all of the stress and strife she had been put through in the last five months, but now the person who had clued her in on the web of deceit and conspiracy that had allowed it all to happen. Her guided tour had saved AJ the further pain of hearing it from any of the other guilty parties, the ones she held dear.

Thanks to hearing it this way, she could understand the bind Punk was in, and the impossible, terrifying situation into which Sasha had been inserted. Maybe she was just too tired and sedated, but at this moment she didn't have it in her heart to be angry at either of them. They were good people, just like Aksana said. So was Alicia, somewhere in her burnt-out shell of a mind. She wanted to leave this hospital with Wade and never speak of any of it ever again.

"Thank you," she didn't even think it, it just came out. Aksana seemed taken aback, flattered almost.

"Hey, you have a right to know. You've passed the test. No one deserves happiness like you two. And if anyone dares try and dispute that, they're going to find me in the way. If you challenge fate, you challenge Aksana."

AJ gaped at her, baffled. Was she supposed to be comforted by this? She didn't know. All she knew was that all of the revelations and frustrations of the past 10 minutes had exhausted what little energy she had. Aksana appeared to notice AJ beginning to fade, she placed a kiss on her cheek and gave her a fond smile as AJ's focus turned to haze once again.

* * *

If he rose first in the morning, or drifted off last at night, Wade would always stop to watch AJ sleep. It was one romantic cliche he could not deny the joy of, especially considering the aggravation she'd had to deal with for much of their time together. It never failed to warm his heart to see her at peace at last, and to know he'd contributed to her contentment.

This was very different, however. No tossing and turning, she couldn't move anywhere with that huge brace around her neck. No cute wrinkling of her nose or subconscious grins if he kissed or touched her. She was completely unresponsive, not to mention hardly a vision of beauty with all the bruises and the patches of dry blood that littered her face. It didn't matter how many times the doctor told him she would be fine, or that things weren't as bad as they looked. It was no comfort. Not when they looked like this.

Finally he sat up, turned his back with a grunt of pure despondence and stamped furiously out of the room. Kaitlyn followed in his wake, finding him with his head pressed against the corridor wall, tears making a long, unimpeded plummet to his feet.

"It's alright to be upset, you know?" she said, cautiously placing her hands on the backs of his shoulders, as if expecting him to launch into one of his much-maligned fits of rage. Even now, he vowed that wasn't going to happen. He'd keep his promise to her even if she wasn't conscious to see it. Somehow it meant even more that he was true to his word in this situation.

"I... just look at her! I can't stay here," he cried.

"It's like she's dead. She could have been dead. I should have known, I should have stopped her. I'm supposed to protect her..."

"Wade, come on!" Kaitlyn interjected brusquely, surprising Wade with the harshness of her delivery. She was determined to give him a reality check.

"You didn't know Alicia was capable of that, none of us did, even her supposed best friends. And you're not going anywhere, there's only one person April's gonna want to see when she first wakes up."

"You're right," Wade conceded with a sigh, extricating himself from the wall and turning to face her.

"But that's not the end of it, it's not as simple as 'she's not dead, so everything's hunky dory.' What if she can't work anymore? You know as well as I do how much that'll destroy her. She'll wish she fucking died, at least at first."

"Which is all the more reason why she needs you by her side," Kaitlyn retorted firmly.

"Look, I didn't want to say this, but what you've done for April... it's unbelievable, it really is. She's so at ease, so sure of where she's headed in life, nothing like I've ever seen her before. I've always worried about her... probably way more than I need to, I know. She's shown me more than once that she can look after herself just fine, but... I don't worry anymore. I know she'll be OK as long as you love her as much as you clearly do now."

"Is that right? Last time we spoke you were calling me a piece of shit and slapping me in the face," Wade quipped, then instantly regretted letting such words leave his lips. This was the old Stuart returning, and it was the last thing Kaitlyn deserved when she was pouring her heart out all in the name of making him feel better. However, she seemed unmoved, almost as if she were expecting it.

"And I was wrong," she said plainly.

"But I've known your girlfriend for a good few years now and if there's one thing I'm definitely right about it's that she'll do everything in her power to make a full recovery, if anyone has it in them to do it, it's her. And if she doesn't, she'll have all the love and support she needs to find another path in life."

Wade stared at her in disbelief and admiration. Why did none of this faze her? Why was he, 250 pounds of no-nonsense northern English granite, who as an absolute rule let never any emotional turmoil render him defenseless, the one who couldn't keep himself together? The one that couldn't see how much worse things could have been, and how they would soon begin to get better again?

"Why aren't you scared?" he asked softly as more tears began to descend. He felt he'd never sounded less like himself.

"I was scared when it happened, terrified in fact," Kaitlyn answered darkly.

"But the worst is over now, she's not in any more danger. We'll all be leaving here together."

"Arm in arm, off into the sunset?" Wade asked, a much more familiar sardonic grin filling his face.

"Yeah, if you like," Kaitlyn grinned back.

"Ah, there you are," a voice interrupted, one that instinctively caused Wade to clench his fists. But then he remembered himself. Punk meant him no harm. And anyway, he'd promised.

"Hi you two, glad you made it," Kaitlyn smiled encouragingly, while Wade returned his stare to the floor in very visible discomfort.

"How is she?" Sasha questioned pensively, nestling into Punk's side.

"Broken neck, plenty of bruising in plenty of other places, but she survived, that's the important thing," Kaitlyn explained.

"Can we see her?" Punk said, glancing at Wade, but he continued to look elsewhere, unaware his blessing was being sought.

"Wade, is it OK if..." Kaitlyn began.

"Of course it is," Wade murmured swiftly, still not addressing them.

"Just through here," Kaitlyn placed her arm around Sasha and shepherded her through the door. It was a good ten seconds before Wade realised Punk had not followed them, instead continuing to train his eyes on the man who had done his level best to put  _him_  in a hospital bed last time their paths had crossed.

"Look, I've something to tell you. My conscience won't allow me to even begin play the concerned bystander," Punk began.

Wade finally looked up, scanning him warily.

"Don't worry, this isn't me trying to get you to beat the shit out of me again," Punk went on, raising his hands aloft as if to illustrate that he came in peace.

"There's no lingering resentment or torch-carrying where April's concerned. As a matter of fact, as of today, me and Sasha are..."

"Do you want me to congratulate you?" Wade barked impatiently, desperate to know what Punk's game was, if indeed he had a game.

"No, no, of course not. What I need to get of my chest is..." Punk swallowed deeply, knowing how badly wrong this could so easily go, but one glance through the window into AJ's room gave him the courage to continue. He watched Sasha with her face in her hands once again, no doubt recalling the last time AJ had come to harm due to this whole twisted affair, and the hand she'd had in it. This had to stop once and for all.

* * *

"Four hours? Fuck, isn't she supposed to be awake by now?" Dolph questioned.

"If someone were actually around whose job it is to tell us what's going on, maybe we'd know. I haven't seen a doctor or a nurse come by since we got here," Big E replied, folding his arms in disapproval.

"Guys, shh! She'll wake up when she's ready. Have a bit of patience," Kaitlyn sighed, taking a weary sip of her coffee.

Wade and Punk remained silent, standing at opposite ends of the room. Sasha made the mistake of locking eyes with the Englishman, whose piercing, accusatory glare sent her cowering behind her boyfriend's shoulder. Noticing this exchange, Punk flared up and returned a glare of his own, letting Wade know that such intimidation simply wasn't on, even in these circumstances.

It was taking all Wade had not to stage a re-enactment of their backstage set-to a month and a half earlier. He'd just about forgiven Punk for taunting him into losing it that day, knowing full well the consequences it would have for he and AJ's relationship. After all, in taking such obvious bait he was not entirely without blame himself. But to know that the whole tumultuous rollercoaster that was their time together had been that way due to one coordinated plot... he didn't know how long it would take him to let that slide, or indeed if he ever could. But he knew AJ would have a much easier job doing so, and that however he felt, he mustn't let it spill over as he had so many times before.

"Hey, with all of us gathered around like this, I'm half expecting her to wake up and say 'I had this crazy dream... and you, and you, and you were there'" Big E suddenly chortled, as if sensing the awkwardness of the silence and the need to break it.

More awkward silence followed.

"I'd rather she punched you in the face for making such a tired, dated reference," Dolph scoffed in reply.

"Woo, good one, Michael Cole. It's not dated, it's timeless, there's a difference," Big E shot back.

"Whatever, anyway, you'd be the tin man, you've got the right build" Dolph retorted.

"Well, then you'd be the scarecrow. You've got the hair."

"Then that would make Kaitlyn the lion, she's got the mane."

"What was that?" Kaitlyn spluttered, snapping from her reverie.

"You're the lion"

"What lion?"

"The cowardly lion in the Wizard of Oz."

"What are you talking about?"

"Were you not listening?"

"No, I've finally taught myself to tune you both out."

More awkward silence.

"...she just doesn't wanna be the cowardly lion," Big E muttered to Dolph.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Will you all just give it a fucking rest!" Wade boomed suddenly, causing all the conscious occupants of the room to jump, before softening his tone to one of happiness and immense relief.

"...I think she's waking up."

"OK, everybody else scram, I think these two need some time alone," Kaitlyn ordered, shooing the other four toward the door.

"So we waited all this time and we don't even get to talk to her?" Dolph questioned indignantly.

"You will, just wait your turn," Kaitlyn cautioned in a most motherly voice.

" _Fine_ ," Dolph groaned, just before the door shut, leaving Wade alone with AJ at just the moment he needed to be.

He watched as her eyes made one abortive attempt to open, then shut again. He sighed dejectedly. False alarm. Then all of a sudden her lids began to flicker again. They stayed open as she began squinting to make him out. As soon as she did, her face began to crease as tears of relief started to fall. He moved his chair as close to the bed as possible, leaning in and kissing her cheekbone, his right hand reaching across to caress the other cheek.

"You gave me a fucking fright there, poppet. At one point we thought you weren't coming back," he said gently, still not quite able to believe the danger was over. He wasn't going to trouble her with the can of worms Punk had opened for the time being. Little did he know she already knew the full story and had already resolved to learn to live with it thanks to her earlier visitor. But there was one question that still preyed on her mind.

"Alicia? W-what happened to her?" AJ felt brave and safe enough to ask this now.

"Well she won't be working for Vince again, that's for certain. Old bastard was livid, having his golden girl set upon like that."

"I just don't understand how she could end up so..."

"No one does. The important thing is not to blame ourselves, and hope there's some way back for her," Wade said calmly, and AJ gave the closest thing she could manage to a nod.

"But sweetheart, forget about her. All that matters is you're alright."

"Well, I'm sure I've looked better," AJ chuckled. Wade smiled in agreement

"No! That's where you're supposed to say I look beautiful no matter what. Screw this, I'm going back to sleep," AJ grumbled in mock-indignation.

Wade gave a disbelieving roll of his eyes. The girl had been beaten to within an inch of her life earlier in the evening, she'd only just woken up from four hours of surgery-induced near-unconsciousness, and she was already driving him round the bend with her teasing and refusal to let a tender moment last more than a few seconds before descending into irreverence and mockery. And that was why he loved her.


	27. Epilogue 1: Punk and Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each epilogue takes place around a year after the events of chapters 1-3

"What is this place? It smells funny," Sasha muttered in perturbed confusion. Punk smiled to himself and remained silent. The unappealing nature of the location was all part of the beauty of the surprise.

"Why are we here? You taking me to a hobo fight?"

"Patience, dearest, patience," Punk smirked as they reached the end of the dimly-lit warehouse corridor.

"I've been patient. I was patient when you turned off my DVD and told me to get in the car. I was patient when you drove us for miles through some of the scariest fucking neighbourhoods I've ever seen... Now seriously, tell me what's going on."

Punk threw open the door to reveal almost complete darkness on the other side.

"I'm not going in there! Who knows what could be lurking around in a place like this," she protested.

"Would I ever put you in any danger?" he asked self-righteously.

"Have you forgotten about last night already?"

"I didn't know they were gonna riot, did I? I got us out of there unscathed, and anyway, you should be used to sports games ending in mindless violence."

"You keep making those jibes about Boston and I swear one day I'll..."

Having gotten her suitably worked up, Punk reached out for the console of switches he knew lay to the right of the door. The row of tube lights spluttered into life, illuminating a vast, hangar-like room lined with various pieces of exercise equipment, with a wrestling ring situated at its centre.

"So a weekend off and we're going to spend it in the ring? Great, just great. You do have some strange ideas sometimes, Phil, you really do," Sasha continued.

"What happened to that sweet, shy, polite girl who never complained and always gave me the benefit of the doubt?" Punk lamented jokingly.

"We are here, Mercedes, because it occurred to me the other day that one of the earliest promises I ever made to you is one that I am yet to fulfill."

Sasha's indignation subsided and a ponderous look spread across her face.

"And what was that?" she asked. As means of a reply, Punk made a dart towards the ring, leaping onto the apron and rapidly ascending the top rope. Once their he stood upright and began beating at his chest, then arched his back as if preparing to jump.

"Ring any bells? No pun intended," he called down to her. Sasha's face slowly subsided into a smile of realisation.

"Oh my God... I can't believe you remembered... I'm sorry I got so mad... you know, sometimes I forget you're this awesome," she gushed.  _There_  was the impossibly sweet girl he'd fallen for.

"Apology accepted. If I didn't want you thinking I'd finally lost my mind I would've told you what was going on. Care to join me?" he said, clambering back down to the apron and extending his hand to help her up. Once inside she looked around, taking in the scale of their surroundings.

"How did you get this place to yourself? We're not gonna get in any trouble for being here, are we?" she questioned.

"Hey, this is my town. Keys to the city, baby," Punk drawled with a wink, prompting a dig in the arm, one of roughly ten he would receive from her over the course of a typical day.

"So, where do we start?"

"Well, I'll fetch that crashmat from over there, give you a few demos, and then you try."

"Sounds good."

Punk rolled out of the ring and picked up the mat from the far corner of the room. As he made his way back, he watched her testing the ropes, bobbing up and down on the soles of her feet, showing all the instinctive eagerness and hunger that he himself felt whenever he stepped into the squared circle. If all other activities and conversation topics failed, it was great to know that she was as freakishly obsessed with her chosen vocation as he was. This was what they had bonded over way back when, after all. Punk could never equate the terrified, stifled little girl he'd met eight months ago with the chipper, effervescent young woman who he now gladly spent almost every day with.

Seeing her reach all the points in her life and career that had brought him so much joy and satisfaction all those years ago transported him back to those times, almost gave him a second shot at youth, this time devoid of the angst and pessimism that had prevented him from appreciating it for the privilege that it was. However, his experience of the potential pitfalls allowed him to guide her and keep her firmly on the ground. She was four months into her tenure on the main roster, the initial accusations of politicking and nepotism that inevitably accompanied her call-up ahead of more experienced talent had long since been silenced with promos and in-ring displays that more than showed she belonged. It all filled him with a sense of pride that far dwarfed any such feeling he had previously experienced.

"Perhaps you better do a bit of warming up first. I know you usually pick this shit up pretty quick but it's gonna take a good twenty or thirty attempts before you get it just right, always does. A frog splash is all about leg strength, maybe start with some squats."

She nodded and duly followed his instructions.

"Yeah... that's great... yeah, keep that up... y'know, that crashmat's heavier than it looks... I think I'll just have a little sit down... behind you here...  _perfect_."

It took just a few seconds for her to become wise to his game. She turned round, placed her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"What? Have I offended your prudish Christian sensibilities yet again?" he smirked.

"Just remind me who's 22 and who's 35 here..." she sighed.

"If you didn't want me to look, you wouldn't have worn lycra."

"You chauvinistic piece of... I might not know how to frog splash, but I know how to deliver a stiff kick to the crotch."

"You'll regret that when we get home."

"What do you m...  _ugh_! There you go again."

"You love me for it."

"I love you in spite of it."

"But you do love me?"

The ever-deepening frown she had been sporting throughout their back-and-forth disappeared, she sighed again in playful annoyance that he had forced this admission out of her at such a juncture.

"Yes, Philip, I do."

He moved closer to her, even without feeling or hearing it he knew her heart was beginning to pound. He could see her eyes widen with anxious arousal. In this respect she hadn't changed, she still couldn't believe that CM Punk would be interested in little old her. She could never quite grasp that there were things she and she alone did to him, things to which no other could compare, but that didn't mean he was ever going to stop trying to tell her.

"And I love you," he replied plainly, hoping the deep, searching kiss he followed it up with would say the rest. As their arms locked around each other, he threw himself backwards to where he knew the crashmat waited below, Sasha landing softly atop him.

"Oh dear me, how clumsy we are," he jested. Then he saw the look she was giving him, one of which he wholeheartedly approved.

"There are no cameras in here, are there?" Sasha breathed huskily.

"Nope."

"And you're absolutely certain no one's gonna interrupt us?"

"No ma'am. Locked the door behind us when we came in and I've got the only set of keys."

"Ever done it in a wrestling ring before?"

"Can't say I have."

"Really? And you call yourself a bad boy?"

"No, teenage girls on the internet call me a bad boy. But you do call yourself a good girl."

"And I am. I'm sober, I'm here with my boyfriend with whom I have a stable, monogamous relationship... and I really feel like fucking him. Not a crime."

"Wow... Prudish Christian sensibilities out the window or what?" Punk chuckled in amazement. He never knew quite when he was going to awaken this side of her but God did he enjoy it whenever he did. He felt honoured to be the only one who knew there was quite so much more to her than met the eye.

Sasha began to silently chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. Punk still considered himself the grouchiest, most world-weary and cynical person he knew but that all changed when it came to her. All she needed to do was smile. And to think that one of the most painful periods in his life had been what had brought them together. Perhaps everything did happen for a reason, perhaps every cloud did have a silver lining.


	28. Epilogue 2: Alicia

It was long gone 12, she supposed she should get up. But who would she be disappointing if she didn't? Herself? She was long past caring. Nowhere to be and nobody to see.

She knew this was supposed to bother her, that some innate desire to do something with her days was meant to be dragging her out of her pit, pushing her in the direction of new lines of friendship and employment. However, she still had enough money to get by for the time being, and the only company she could be even remotely comfortable in was her own. She shifted herself to a vertical base, and it was then she realised she was still in the front room. She hadn't made it upstairs yet again.

At least this meant a short trip to the kitchen, to the cabinet on the right of the sink, to the plastic container housing the medicinal accompaniment that made the days all blur into one, that turned her brain to an apathetic slush far too lethargic to comprehend the tragedy of her situation, and thus the need to escape it at all costs. It was her first, desperate thought each morning (or whenever it was she finally awoke), the urgent need to block out the screaming of self-awareness; her optimistic, ambitious former self still trapped within her, demanding she emerge from this malaise while she still had her youth and some degree of sanity. But Alicia was adamant. She couldn't face the world again. Not after what she'd done.

Seven months had passed since her in-ring meltdown, the explosion of months of frustration and despair that had nearly cost an innocent woman her life. Alicia's private torment forced out into the open, bringing to an end the double life she'd so expertly led, leaving all the friends she'd strung along for the ride far too betrayed and scared to stand by her. Layla, Natalya, even Rosa.

To think she'd looked down upon them, privately mocked them for their obliviousness to her plot, their inability to realise that the resigned acceptance she displayed in their presence was a front. She'd considered the very fact they expected her to just move on with her life to be proof that they weren't on her level and were unworthy of the bond of true friendship. She'd do anything to have them by her side now, but as soon as she began to genuinely value it they were no longer prepared to offer it.

As the weeks turned to months and she failed to re-emerge in any capacity, they'd attempted to re-establish contact out of concern, but a combination of her constant inebriation and what little of her pride remained had caused her to rebuff them once again.

_'You need some serious fucking help. But I won't be the one to help you. Not anymore. We're done!'_

She didn't mean to hurt Rosa that night, it just sort of happened. When nothing felt real anymore it was difficult to restrain yourself. Whenever she was compos mentis enough to dwell upon it, those words, and the accompanying image of her former best friend caked in mud with splinters dotting her legs and arms where she'd crashed through the porch railing, replayed ceaselessly in her mind.

She was so unbelievably sorry, but it was far too late for that. Sorry would be as meaningless to Rosa as it would be to Sasha, to Punk, to Wade and to AJ. Especially to AJ.

If there was one image that plagued Alicia's thoughts more than that of Rosa it was that poor girl slumped lifelessly on the mat, her future hanging by a thread. It didn't register at the time, not during the tidal wave of abuse that greeted her in the locker room, nor during Vince's furious dismissal of her. It took days for the feeling of righteousness to subside, and when it did, the expected sense of relief and accomplishment never materialised. Instead there was nothing but emptiness and deepest, darkest regret.

Yet AJ had never pressed charges, and presumably had dissuaded WWE from doing so as well. Why? To say she owed Alicia nothing was an understatement. Why was she still willing to show remorse in the face of the burning, totally unwarranted hatred and disregard for her wellbeing that Alicia had shown? She would never know. Since that night she'd not spoken a word to any of the four people whose lives she distorted and almost destroyed and felt it best for all parties if she never did.

This clarity of thought had gone on for long enough. Alicia could feel herself shaking, the tears readying themselves to fall. This could escalate into a full-on panic attack if she didn't wash these pills down her throat post-haste. Three was her usual morning intake, but with all this rumination clouding her brain, threatening to take her down into the depths of despair, maybe only four would suffice. She poured them onto her trembling hand, filled the small glass with water. She took a deep breath... when a sharp, abrupt knock at the door caused her to drop both the pills and the glass, which shattered loudly at her feet, instantly dashing any hope of convincing whoever was calling upon her that there was no one home.

Now she really was panicking. She hadn't had a visitor since her parents and sister had railroaded her into inviting them round for dinner a month earlier. She'd spent the entirety of the week leading up to their arrival cleaning up both the house and her own appearance to give some illusion of normality and holding it all together. This time she'd had no time to plan ahead, this time her door was being darkened completely without warning, catching her at her most rueful and vulnerable. And they weren't going away any time soon.

The knocking intensified.

"Alicia, I know you're in there! Where else would you be?" a woman's voice bellowed.

Alicia stopped dead. She should have known this day would come. She'd known from the outset of her post-Wade change of heart that she would never be able to deceive Gail Kim the way she had Rosa and the others. Alicia's former colleague had a level of perception when it came to her mood and state of mind that none of her other friends possessed. Back when she had nothing to hide this had been a major plus point.

No one had been more rewarding to confide in than Gail, no one's empathy was more absolute and no one's advice more useful. But as soon as her plan swung into action Gail became a dangerous person to know; the fact they were no longer on the road together was potentially the saving grace that allowed Alicia to keep the illusion alive. She'd allowed them to drift apart, only seeing her frequently enough to not attract suspicion. Yet still, she always had the feeling Gail was aware that all was not quite right, that something had changed since Wade's eventual rejection.

She never stopped asking about him, about how Alicia felt about his budding relationship with AJ, about Alicia's own plans with regard to finding new love. While Alicia always managed to palm her off with the stage-rehearsed stock answers she gave everyone, it never stopped her asking again the next time they met. She knew there was something awry and she wouldn't give up in her attempts to draw it out. Just as she wouldn't give up in her bid to penetrate Alicia's solitude this Thursday lunchtime.

Finally and reluctantly, she made her way to the door. The second their eyes met, Gail recoiled in shock. Alicia had long since taken down all of the mirrors in her house, but having gone days without brushing her hair, applying any make-up or wearing anything but her oldest, baggiest clothing, she was under no illusions as to how dishevelled and beleaguered she must now have looked. The meticulous pride and attention to detail she once applied to her appearance and fashion choices had fallen entirely by the wayside.

"God, it's worse than I thought," Gail muttered to herself.

"Pleased to see you too," Alicia snapped in reply.

"Sorry, but there's no point pretending this is a light-hearted social call. A fucking intervention is what it is," Gail said purposefully, stepping across the threshold and ducking underneath Alicia's outstretched arm before she had a chance to stop her.

"Did I say you could come in?" Alicia barked in vain as Gail strode through the hallway.

"You don't have a choice in the matter," Gail called back to her.

"Throw anything you like at me, physical or mental, I'm the one friend you won't be driving away."

This should have been music to Alicia's ears; that at least one of her former confidantes was still firmly in her corner. But her defence mechanisms were kicking in just as they were the last time a hand of support was extended. The reality of facing up to the monumental task of reconstruction was far too frightening. It was much easier to push everyone away than pull herself out of the mire.

"My God, when did you last clean in here?" Gail questioned in disgust as she entered the living room; an unsightly mess of bedding, clothes, tissues, DVDs and discarded food containers, the nature of which betrayed how Alicia had completely abandoned the diet of a professional athlete.

"Well I wasn't expecting any visitors. You're making a big mistake coming here. You know what happened to Rosa," Alicia replied, her shaky, defensive tone destroying any intimidation those words might have conveyed.

She knew she didn't have it in her to go that far this time, not without her medication. Everything felt far too real at the moment and it threw into sharp relief how unhinged and unsustainable this persona really was.

"But I'm not Rosa, am I? I'm not going to desperately throw sympathetic platitudes at you in the hope you'll magically buck up and we can go shopping together again. I get you. I know what scares you. Because you are scared, aren't you? You're  _so_  scared," Gail took Alicia's hand in her own and looked directly into her eyes.

It was months since Alicia had felt this way, like someone was actually prepared to infiltrate and comprehend the layers of anguish and sorrow heaped upon her, initially by Wade but now mostly by herself, but at this moment that made her even more frightened.

"Leave me alone!" she spat, her voice finally cracking. A vicious shove sent Gail sprawling across the coffee table. Alicia retreated to the kitchen, she  _needed_  those pills. She scrabbled desperately on the floor where they had fallen along with the glass, pricking herself on one of the many scattered shards but not caring in the slightest. She got to her feet and turned around. Gail's mouth hung open; she shut her eyes and sighed with dejected frustration.

Alicia couldn't fight it any longer. She couldn't bare to be looked at like that by someone who once considered her an equal, but now could do nothing but pity her. It was a similar moment to this one that had caused her to lash out at Rosa. This time, however, she didn't have the armour, the blockades provided by the tablets she cupped in her bleeding hand. That image was in itself a perfect metaphor for what she had been reduced to. She wasn't afraid to say it anymore.

"Help me, Gail."

She simply collapsed into Gail's arms, the screws that normally blocked out the desperation, the panic and the tears coming well and truly loose. Her friend remained silent, simply wrapping her arms around Alicia's back, no doubt having expected, even hoped for, such an occurrence. Alicia didn't need words at this moment and Gail knew that. Of course she knew. It never would have gotten this far if Alicia had invested in her support from the beginning.

"I don't know who I am anymore. I've done so much wrong. It just feels like it's..."

"...It's not too late. If things can get this bad in the space of one year they can turn around just as quickly."

"You don't know that."

"I know I'm not letting you give up without even trying."

Only now did Alicia's despair subside enough for her to realise she was creating an ever-expanding pool of blood on the back of Gail's shirt, not to mention leaning her entire bodyweight on a smaller and lighter woman. Much as she didn't want to leave the warmth of the embrace, she extricated herself and began running her hand under the tap. As she did, she felt Gail's hand at her shoulder. It made all the difference.

"Doesn't look like too bad a cut," Gail murmured comfortingly.

"No. I didn't hurt you before, did I?"

"Even if you had I'd understand. But this is the last time you shut me out, OK?"

Alicia nodded. Now the walls had been broken down she had no desire whatsoever to reconstruct them. She turned back to face the Canadian, deciding the worksurface would be more appropriate to brace herself on this time.

"Where do I even start? There's the lives I very nearly ruined, the fact I can't get through a day without sinking seven or eight of those things... I doubt any self-respecting wrestling promoter would book me again, and I'm hardly in peak physical condition anyway."

Gail allowed herself a scoff at this.

"You've put on, what, fifteen pounds at the worst? No one I've spoken to feels anything other than sorry for you, Rosa included, whether she's prepared to admit it again yet or not. If the people you've hurt forgive you, then who's anyone else to judge? Look, I'm not saying this will be easy, but you can do it and you will do it. I won't leave you alone until you have."

Alicia smiled. An actual smile; not a vindictive sneer, not the forced grins she was throwing out left, right and centre in the locker room before she left, the ones she'd had to bring out of mothballs from time to time to assuage her family's concerns. It made her realise how long it had been since she was genuinely happy, or hopeful, but more importantly, it made her realise that she still had it in her to feel these emotions. Life was far from over.

 


	29. Epilogue 3: Wade and AJ

_As engagement rings went, it was rather understated. But then, looking back, so was the proposal..._

"You know... I've been thinking... maybe we should get married."

AJ paused the game and snapped her head round exaggeratedly to look at him.

"What? One, if you're serious I expect a better proposal. Two, this goes against every other conversation we've ever had on the issue."

"Well, you know, it's been eleven months, I'm 33 years old now, I think it's time."

"What do you mean you think it's time? You said to me, when we first had a talk about 'the future', that you found marriage unnecessary. 'Our love is above the law and doesn't need to be formalised.' Your exact words. And I concurred wholeheartedly."

"You snogged my face off."

"Cos it was romantic as fuck. Why the change of heart?"

"Well, OK... it's mum and dad. They won't stop fucking asking, and it's not that I'm against marriage, it's just I personally don't see the point, but you know, they're very traditional like that, and if it makes them happy..."

"So you're gonna marry me just to shut your parents up?" AJ frowned.

"Sweetheart, it's not like that, I just..."

"Alright then." AJ interrupted with an agreeable smile. Wade did a double take.

"What do you mean alright then?"

"I'll do it. I'm in a similar boat; I mean, my folks are pretty free and easy on the whole thing, but there's many a Mendez still clings to their rosaries."

"A Catholic wedding?"

"Not necessarily, just so long as I tap out to the wed-lock they'll be satisfied. Gonna have to have it somewhere that can accommodate half the Puerto Rican population of Union City... and a good third of Puerto Rico itself."

"And half of Lancashire too. And shall we say... four friends each? Two from work, two from home. Dunno about you, but I'd just find it awkward having the whole roster gawping and aww-ing at us. No idea how Drew and Summer held their nerve."

"I'm just pissed that they didn't thank us in their toast. If you hadn't kicked her out of bed that night, and if I hadn't come to him for help, they'd never have been on that corridor at the same time."

"Very true. Anyway, back to us. Which side of the pond are we having it on?"

"Hmm... somewhere in between?"

"Why? Know of a good oil rig?"

"Well, I've always wanted to go to Iceland."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Wade questioned rather pointlessly. AJ was fond of making ridiculous demands and then deciding they weren't so ridiculous after all. She knew he was rarely able to say no to her.

"No Iceland, no deal. Not like we can't afford it."

"Fine, Iceland... needs to be in a warm month then... June?"

"Sounds good. Six months to plan the perfect playlist for the reception... but I did say I wanted a better proposal."

For all his cynicism about the act of marriage, Wade all of a sudden felt rather anxious and determined to get it right. He knelt at her feet. He looked up into her eyes. The same eyes he had looked into in San Jose almost a year earlier. Back then they were full of need, begging for someone to be by her side, to support her through the bizarre and often cruel life she had chosen to lead. Since then he'd become that someone and more.

He knew how much she loved him, it never failed to send his head in a spin. The way she instantly relaxed and entered a state of complete peace when he held her. Her disposition around him; a level of affection and excitement that was his and only his to enjoy. Not Punk's, not anyone else's. How could he have ever doubted that?

He loved her back in a way he had never thought possible. Nothing in his life had not been enriched immeasurably by having her by his side. This good-natured, quick-witted, supportive, perceptive, stunningly beautiful girl. This was the happy ending, the one he had dismissed as an ostentatious, unrealistic dream held only by the foolish, yet it was here before him in the form of the woman who he could honestly say had shaped him more than anyone he'd ever known. Sometimes it was good to remind himself of this, and a proposal, cliche and totally against his rationale though it was, was the perfect opportunity to do so. Together they'd fought tooth and nail to get to this stage.

"April Jeanette Mendez... I love you with all my heart. If the rest of my life is spent with you, then I know I've spent it the best way I possibly could. You're quite honestly a more incredible human being than I'd ever believed existed before I met you. So please,  _please_... will you marry me?"

"Dammit, you're actually making me excited about this now. You've made a believer out of me, you absolute bastard. I'll never forgive you for this... But of course I'll marry you."

She let him take her in his arms, let him kiss the top of her head and place it against his heart. The place in which she always imagined being whenever she was scared or upset. She used to fear she'd never experience this. So many near misses, but this time, this time was different. This man had never loved anyone else, nor would he ever, she had reason to believe. There was no way of explaining it... she so upbeat and excitable, so profoundly in touch with her inner child, and him so surly, so crushingly realistic. They should have nothing to say to one another, yet life without him... she couldn't even bare contemplating it now, and she wouldn't have to. The paranoia she'd felt with every man that came before, that it was a matter of time before they became bored and wandered; that wouldn't happen with Wade. He'd battled for her, he'd taken everything the world could throw, and here he was sincerely, wonderfully pledging the rest of his life to her.

"And it all started with a game of crazy golf, eh?" he said softly in her ear.

"Yup. And if you'd not gone for milkshakes with me I might never have wanted to see you again."

"That's what clinched it, is it?"

"Pretty much, I realised that I'd never get bored of seeing you being all moody and British whilst surrounded by cheesy Americana. I knew it was the kind of hilarity my life needed."

"Is that why you keep me around then?"

"Yeah... that and the sex, anyways."

"I've just asked for your hand in marriage, would it kill you to be serious for a change?"

"Always ruining my fun, huh? Well, there is one thing I want to ask..."

She hated herself for it. She knew the answer he'd give., it should have meant nothing. But she'd never heard it from anybody before and she knew she'd believe it coming from him.

"Will you always love me?"

"Always, my little pocket rocket, always."


End file.
